Supreme Reflections: Volume 5
by MarvelMaster616
Summary: A series of short character vignettes that takes place within the pages of X-men Supreme Volume 5: Dark Truth. It covers Jack Freeman, Warpath, Sage, Emma Frost, and Mystique. See each character reflect on the events of their lives.
1. Jack Freeman

**X-men Supreme Reflections  
Volume 5**

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 **AN: This story is the fifth edition of short vignettes for some select characters during specific points in Volume 5. If you haven't read Volume 5 yet, I suggest you do because I'll be citing events from that volume. As with previous installments, these entries are mostly character musings that should fill in some of the blanks or add some extra depth to X-men Supreme as a whole. Think of these as one-shot's similar to those that make it onto comic stands that focus on one character. Their contents are still in continuity and I'll reference wherever and whenever these scenes take place. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own X-men or any of the characters. They are the property of Marvel and Disney. Please don't sue.**

' _These mean character thoughts or psychic communication.'_

 _This indicates a shift to first person._

 **As always, I urge everybody to review each entry of this story. Feedback is very important for making X-men Supreme great. I am grateful for the support I've received so far and I encourage everyone to tell me what they think. Please post your comments on this website or contact me directly. I'm always happy to receive feedback, positive or otherwise.** **Thank you and enjoy!**

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 **Jack Freeman's Reflections (AN: Takes place shortly after issue 125)**

" _You're a degenerate punk! That's all you'll ever be!"_

 _I still hear that on a daily basis. That's the kind of shit I heard from pretty much everyone I ever came across. Jack Freeman epitomized what it meant to be a degenerate punk. He wasn't smart, his parents (at least the one that stuck around) did a lousy job raising him, he made his living sell weed out of the back of a pickup truck, and he always found new ways of pissing people off. Who would ever want to be Jack Freeman? I sure didn't. That's why I spend every second of every day trying to get away from him._

It was a strange feeling for a battle-hardened soldier. He wasn't on duty, he wasn't training, and he wasn't preparing for a mission. General Grimshaw ordered him to take a brief leave from his duties as a Green Beret. Like any good soldier, he obeyed his commanding officer. It was a major shift for Captain Jack Freeman and one he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

For the past two hours he had been walking aimlessly through downtown Washington DC. The streets were still pretty desolate in wake of the Legacy Virus. Even though the bodies had been cleared and the streets were open to traffic, there wasn't much activity. Only a handful of stores and restaurants were open. There were some people out trying to return to some sense of normalcy. For Jack Freeman, normal was a very uncomfortable feeling. What used to qualify as _normal_ for him turned into something he had been running from for years.

 _I know it's not healthy, hating myself and trying to be someone else. I once had a psych evaluation done by some doctor at a VA hospital. He said my level of self-loathing is symptomatic of some potentially serious mental condition. So long as it's potential, I could care less. Hating myself isn't part of some disease. It's a natural reaction to living half my life as an unapologetic screw-up._

 _I was born on the streets of Haight Ashbury in San Francisco. That's basically ground zero for hippies and stoners. My mother was a hippie. She was a poster child for a post-60s hippie. She left home when she was 14, got into drugs when she was 15, and was preaching all this peace and love crap when she was 16. So it really shouldn't have come to anyone's surprise when she got knocked up by some faceless guy when she was 19. So when I was born I came into a world where things like responsibility, discipline, and sobriety were actively discouraged._

 _I don't remember much about my early years. Guess that's a side-effect of having a mother who regularly ingested LSD, shrooms, and weed. I'm not even sure if I had a place to call home. My mother and I would stay in these random buildings that doubled as hippie communes. It sounds good on paper, everybody working to take care of everybody. In practice, it's like having someone mentally retarded do brain surgery._

 _It was a mess. I don't think I was in a place with a functioning toilet until I was ten. My mom and her fellow hippies were never abusive or violent though. Hell, the people I grew up around were probably the least violent people in the world. I was probably a major buzz kill because I had a bad habit of lashing out._

 _Even as a kid, I didn't care much for the whole hippie life. My mom and her buddies were completely detached. It wasn't just because of drugs either. They brushed aside any sense of responsibility. So I basically had to raise myself. Sometimes I had to steal or pickpocket to get money for a meal. Sometimes I had to complain about living in a dirty building that no one bothered to keep clean. Sometimes I had to fight to show people that I wasn't some crazy pacifist like my mother. It eventually got to a point where my mother realized I wasn't jiving with their hippie philosophy. I think it messed her up more than she cared to admit._

Jack stopped near an intersection to gather himself for a moment. While he stood at a curb, he saw a woman and her young son crossing the street. The boy couldn't have been more than four years old. He was eating one of those messy corn-dogs and his mother kept trying to wipe his face.

"Looks like we'll have to start packing spare bibs for you," the woman said to her son, "No matter what I get you for lunch, you find a way to a mess."

"Quit it, mommy!" the kid complained as she tried to wipe his face.

"Be more careful with your corn dog and we won't have this problem."

Jack kept watching the woman until she and her son reached the other side of the street. It didn't seem like much, but that woman demonstrated more parenting skills in one minute than his mother ever did in a lifetime. He learned the hard way how poor parenting affected an already troubled kid.

 _By the time I was eight, my mother sobered up enough to realize that she couldn't raise a kid effectively in a hippie commune. That and her drug use was causing all sorts of health problems. If she wanted to live and avoid the authorities, she had to shape up. She actually moved us to a real apartment in San Francisco. She got a job in some hippie apparel store. Except with my mother, she never goes the full distance._

 _Working in a store brought in money, but not nearly enough. So my mother supplemented her income by selling weed. She didn't hide it from me. She did it for herself as much as she did it for me. She was totally ambivalent about it. So I guess she wasn't too surprised when I became ambivalent about her. I never grew close to my mom. As I got older, I avoided her more and more. Her job and drug dealing made money that paid the bills, but that was the most she ever did for me._

 _Going to school was my first taste of structure and discipline. At first, it didn't really go over well. I was a problem child. I disobeyed, I talked back, and I lost my temper. I was the bane of so many teachers. I didn't make too many friends either. Being the son of a hippie drug dealer didn't teach me many social skills. Even the handful of friends I made thought I was a little punk. It didn't bother me because I didn't know any better. That extended to my test scores as well. In terms of academics, I just above that fine line between being mentally challenged and just plain dumb. I was held back a few grades and could barely read by the time I was in middle school._

 _Poor grades never bothered me. By the time I was in high school I learned all the skills I needed. I could read, write, and do basic math. That's the only skill you need to sell drugs. That was probably the only useful skill my mom ever taught me. I learned from her the tricks of the trade. During my freshman year of high school, I was the football team's sole supplier of pot. It helped make me new friends and essentially set the stage for what my life would become._

 _By the time I was 18, I had only reached the 10_ _th_ _grade. I dropped out entirely as soon as I figured out I was a legal adult and didn't have to live with my mom anymore. By then her health rendered her incapable of dealing with me. She developed lung problems from all her smoking and years of LSD use left her spaced out for hours at a time. There was no heartfelt goodbye between us. I just told her I was going out on my own and she just shrugged her shoulders. That sums up my entire relationship with my mother._

Once the mother and her son were out of sight, Jack sighed and kept walking. He still had no direction or destination in mind. He passed by a couple of subway stops and a few outdoor restaurants. Across the street were a few theatres and shops. Standing next to them were a few street performers. Some were singing, some were playing instruments, and some were selling small apparel.

"Hey buddy! You want an official MSA T-shirt?" said one of the guys, "You can't police the mutants of the world without one!"

The Green Beret rolled his eyes. Whoever decided that licensing T-shirts from the MSA should have been fired. The whole mutant controversy seemed to settle after the Legacy Virus, but it still struck Jack personally. Like it or not, he was a mutant and a soldier. It used to be he was just a mutant and a degenerate. In many ways it was a much more volatile combination.

 _I know it's petty. The whole policing mutants deal still pisses me off. It's not that I disagree with the premise. I think it's a good idea to hold people accountable. I've seen first hand what happens when nobody does. It's just a painful reminder that I'm a mutant and I can't do anything about it._

 _My powers didn't manifest in some elaborate moment. They developed in spurts over the years. The first sign I had was when I was 13. My mom and I were staying at this crack house one night when some doped up idiot accidentally set the place on fire. I had fallen asleep and my mother being the attentive parent she was, left me on the couch. The room filled with smoke, the fires turned the place into an oven, and three people who had passed out were killed. I was lucky though. When I woke up I wasn't scared or anything. I was confused. I think at that moment my powers kicked in. I adapted my body to breath through the smoke and tolerate the heat. I adapted so well I casually walked out of the smoking house just as firefighters were breaking in. It sure surprised my mother and the authorities, but they had other things to worry about._

 _There were a bunch of other little incidents like being able to breathe smoke and making my skin harder so I could get through gym class. I didn't get a full grip on it until I was 16. I followed the football players out to the docks overlooking the bay. It was the middle of winter so it was pretty cold. I passed out the weed and everybody started smoking. I'm not sure how it happened, but one of the guys wandered off and stumbled right into the water. Since it was freezing cold he was in big trouble. Being only slightly high, I went in to help him out when I saw him struggling. While I was in there my body adapted again. The water was no more uncomfortable to me than a hot bath. I couldn't understand why the guy was in so much pain. Then I figured it out._

 _While I was dragging him to the dock, this boat came speeding by. The guy driving it must have been high too because he ran right into us. I instinctively sheltered the guy, but as I did I saw my skin change texture. It became tough and ridged like a rock. So when the boat it I barely felt a scratch. The guy I was helping noticed and he braved hypothermia to reveal the truth._

" _D-D-Dude! You're o-o-one of those m-m-mutants!"_

 _I didn't know much about mutants except for what I heard on the news. By the time I got the guy back to the docks, everyone was pretty messed up. They didn't have time to worry about me being a mutant. After watching TV and reading some of the papers, I accepted it. I was a mutant._

 _At first it didn't bother me that much. I actually thought it was cool. I found out I could adapt my body to survive pretty much anything. I could take extreme cold and extreme heat. I could breathe in shit that was toxic to every other living thing on the planet. I could make my skin so hard that I could take a bullet to the head and not feel it. Me being the degenerate punk, I figured it would help me in my drug endeavors. As if I wasn't enough of an insufferable jerk, I had even more reasons to be arrogant. Hell, I was as bad as Magneto._

Jack held his head lower as he walked faster. He got away from the theatre and art centers for somewhat blander surroundings. He eventually found himself on a street lined with office buildings. It was a bit of a reprieve, but only for a moment.

As he turned the corner to another street, he came across a mural that had been painted along the walls of one of the buildings. It was a mural depicting mutants in a less than flattering way. Magneto was at the center and underneath a large mock-up of him were images of dead bodies. It was not a pleasant picture. Some had spray-painted over it, but not enough to obstruct the underlying message. It was a message that resonated with Jack on a very personal level.

 _In some ways I think I was worse than Magneto. At least Magneto was motivated by his powers. To me, they were just a tool. After I moved out of my mom's place, I started selling weed full time. I actually used some of her contacts to beef up my business. I set myself apart by coming off as tough and resilient. I would demonstrate my powers to prospective customers, letting them know that if they bought from me they were buying from someone who could adapt. It was a good selling point. I made a pretty decent living because of it. By decent I mean I made enough to ride around in a beat up truck, stay in cheap apartments when I needed to, and have money left over to have fun. Because of my powers, I could be as irresponsible as I wanted._

 _What often happens to drug dealers and street punks is they get a nasty dose of reality at some point. Someone beats them up, someone shoots them, or someone finds a way to hurt them. I was pretty much immune from that. One time this guy tried to stab me and take my weed. He was pretty shocked when his knife bounced right off my chest. This one other time three guys came at me with baseball bats. They might as well have been hitting me with pillows. I laughed at them before I kicked their asses and took their weed._

 _It began another trend. With my powers I wasn't just a degenerate. I was a degenerate that could fight. I pretty much taught myself to fight so I could deal with the competition. My powers ensured that nobody could measure up. I pretty much had the market cornered in my area. I had a steady stream of customers and income. Being a tough guy earned me some respect despite my lousy social skills. It even earned me my share of girls. It's amazing what a couple of college girls will do for a few bags of weed._

 _It was a stoner's paradise. I worked only a few hours a day, I had money in my pocket, and I was both feared and respected. Yet at the same time, I was miserable as hell. I hated myself. I hated my life. I felt like a loser. Hell, I was a loser. I never had anyone come along to give me a good kick in the ass. That all changed when I met up with a grizzly old Vietnam vet named Major Lenny Romita._

Captain Freeman turned away from the mural and kept walking. His demeanor eased somewhat. He needed to stay away from the kind of imagery that reminded him of his mission. General Grimshaw wanted him to take a break from being a soldier so he didn't forget how to be a civilian. As he got away from the image, he passed another mural that was written along a wall. This one was a bit more upbeat.

It was a mural of an American flag. It may not have been a mural at all. It could be an advertising slogan by one of the companies in these nearby offices. Whatever it was, Jack took comfort in it. As he walked by it, he smiled. He may have been cynical about a lot of things, but it was impossible to be a good soldier without some form of patriotism.

 _Growing up, I never considered myself all that patriotic. When you're surrounded by hippies and stoners, it's a lot more acceptable to hate America. Lieutenant Lenny Romita offered a different take. I met him in a bar where I often hung out to sell weed. He was down on his luck. He recently lost his wife, the medical bills pretty much bankrupted him, and he couldn't hold down a job anymore. He also had some medical issues of his own and he used weed to self-medicate. I'm not sure what he had, but he said the pot I gave him made it manageable. So he ended up buying me a round and shooting a few rounds of pool. In the span of a night he became my best friend._

 _We were a lot alike. He had crappy parents and grew up in a world without discipline or responsibility. He didn't have very good social skills, but he managed to make more friends than I ever did. What really stood out about him though was how he always smiled. At first I thought it was just the weed, but the man seemed genuinely happy for a guy whose life was as crummy as mine. Even when he told horrible stories about how his dad disappeared for three months before driving his truck into a bar over an unpaid tab, he wouldn't stop smiling. It baffled me how I could so utterly hate myself while this guy was so content._

 _We started hanging out a lot. For a time he even bunked with me in one of my apartments when he ran short of money. The more we talked, the more I learned about him. His life had been on the same path as mine. Then he did something different that never crossed my mind. He joined the military. Actually, he got drafted, but it didn't bother him. As strange as it sounded, joining the military was the best thing that ever happened to him. For the first time in his life, he had structure. He would get up in the morning and know what he was in for. It didn't matter how smart or dumb he was. So long as he ran the drills as well as his fellow soldiers he was an equal._

 _Lenny had quite a career. After basic, he joined a unit and was sent to Vietnam. He did a lot of grunt work, toiling in the jungles and conducting countless drills. He saw his share of combat, but he was no John Rambo. He never liked war or killing. What made it special for him was just being a soldier. Being Lenny Romita was nothing, but being a Lieutenant gave him an identity._

 _He once told me that in the field of combat, you learn who you truly are. It's only when you face death that life is simplified. For some, it's crippling. Some people can't handle who they really are or are just indifferent about it. For others, it was liberating. On the streets no one would care if he died the next day. But if he died serving his country then he died for a purpose. So even though his life was shit now, it didn't bother him. Lenny knew that he had done something with himself. He saw who he truly was in combat and that made him content for some reason._

 _This fascinated me to no end. For a long time I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could joining the military make some no-name grunt into someone so content? I was under the impression that being a soldier in war traumatized people. Maybe he was traumatized, but only to the extent that it made him who he was. I actually lost sleep over this shit. It didn't become clear to me until one fateful night._

Jack's expression fell again as he passed by the mural. Walking down the street, a large dump truck drove by. The truck was marked with government tags. That meant that it was likely carrying dead bodies from the Legacy Virus. It was fully concealed so none of the civilians saw it, but having been part of the cleanup he knew the truth.

"Death answers more questions than we're comfortable with," he said to himself.

It was still haunting him, the sight of so many dead bodies. As a soldier he had become hardened to such horrors. That didn't mean he wasn't bothered by it. General Grimshaw once said that when a soldier is no longer bothered by death, then he's no longer mentally fit to be a soldier. He's perfectly capable of being a murderer and a murderer isn't a soldier. Nathan Grimshaw wasn't the only man who taught him this. He learned much earlier just how sobering death could be.

 _It happened pretty suddenly. One moment Lenny and I are hanging out near the docks and the next he goes into this horrible coughing fit. It was so bad that he started coughing up bits of his lung. I didn't know what the hell to do. I was slightly buzzed, I admit. I tried to get Lenny to an emergency room, but he wouldn't have it. He just asked to lie down and so I helped him. I thought it was just his condition or whatever was acting up. I know now that whatever disease he had was more serious than he let on._

 _He knew this was it for him. He didn't try to fight it. Maybe he thought it would be easier to just let go than keep lingering in life so his suffering would be dragged out. He may not have been thinking straight, but I was sure messed up about it. This guy was my only friend so I panicked like the idiot I was. Then Lenny smiled at me. With what little life he had left, he told me something I'll never forget._

" _It's okay, Jack. I've done…all I needed to do. I don't care…how messed up my life has been. For one small stretch of time…I was Lieutenant Lenny Romita. That's good enough for me. You…I know you can do better. You…got a gift. Use it. Make something of yourself, Jack…something to be proud of. It'll make every other part of life…better."_

 _Those were his last words. He kept on coughing for a few minutes. Then he passed out. I stayed with him, sitting on some dirty bench along the docks. I watched until he drew his final breath. When the time came, I closed his eyes for him. It was at that moment I decided to stop hating myself. I was going to find a new path. I was going to make sure that whenever my time came, I could die with a smile like Lenny Romita._

Captain Freeman watched the truck until it was out of sight. He watched as the people on the streets didn't even look at it. They seemed completely oblivious. The death from the Legacy Virus may have hardened them so maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. It helped remind him of what a powerful influence death could be. It was this influence that helped him take his life in a new direction. Ironically it was only when he became familiar with death that he came to appreciate the value of life.

 _The next day I completely walked away from the drug dealing business. I got in touch with a local VA and they took care of Lenny. They gave him a burial complete with military honors. I was one of the only ones who showed up. I left some flowers on his grave (with a dash of his favorite weed) and paid my respects. One hour later, I was standing in line at a military recruitment office. I was giving up a cushy life as a degenerate drug dealer and becoming a soldier._

 _I didn't know what to expect. Hell, I barely thought it through. This was something I didn't want to screw up. Mutants in the military was a big issue at the time so I kept my mutant status a secret. Once I signed up, I was shipped off to basic. The first few days I was pretty shell shocked. I actually had authority figures telling me what to do. I actually had a schedule to keep and responsibilities to maintain. At first I didn't care for it that much, but when I made myself do it I actually got something out of it. I wasn't sure what it was and not too many of my squad mates shared those feelings, but it was special and I went with it._

 _Pretty soon I embraced the whole notion of being a soldier. Being Private Jack Freeman was a hell of a lot better than just being Jack Freeman. I woke up in the morning, drilled, trained, drilled some more, then drilled again, trained some more, and drilled again. It was pretty rough, but every time I accomplished one challenge I felt emboldened. I hated myself just a little bit less. When they asked me to do fifty push-ups, I did sixty. When they asked me to do twenty pull-ups, I did forty. It helped that I could adapt my body when I needed to. It also helped that I put on some muscle from all my training. It was peaceful in a weird sort of way. Being in an environment so structured was good for me. I felt like this is what I was meant to be…a soldier._

 _The biggest obstacle I faced wasn't toughness or on an obstacle course. It was my lack of social skills. As much as I loved being a soldier, I didn't get along well with my fellow squad mates or my superior officers. I got on their nerves and they got on mine. I used their disdain of me as motivation, but I get the sense they were never that motivated. The problem was I performed too well. Like my powers, I adapted my body to be as tough and resilient as I needed it to be. I had stamina and endurance that none of my other fellow soldiers could match. So after I made it through basic, I was upgraded to Special Forces._

 _This is when my training really stepped up. I had to push myself in ways that even my powers couldn't help me with. Green Berets are a cut above your typical soldier. It's not enough to just be a grunt. You have to eat, sleep, and breathe the mission while every possible distraction is pummeling your senses. It wasn't just running, push-ups, and weapons training. We did survival training, handling explosives, infiltration, and all sorts of advanced operations meant to separate men from boys. I held my own, albeit barely. I still didn't make too many friends, but there was too much going for them to bust my chops about it._

 _The training lasted six months. It made me a totally different person. My mindset changed, my body changed, and my whole outlook on the world changed. Life became a mission. You stay focused, disciplined, and in control. You also have to learn how to fight. I'm not talking the kind of fighting that will win you a feud with a rival drug dealer either. They teach you any number of ways to kill a man. Beyond the fighting, I had to learn how to think and assess a situation. Sometimes you can't be a blunt instrument. You need to use tact and diplomacy. While I may not be able to do algebra, I could read a situation as well as anyone. It was tough to learn, but I learned it better than any shit they taught me in school. I continued to annoy people while putting up good stats. I went from a dirty stoner to a hardened, focused soldier._

 _The fate of my soldier career eventually this 24-day-long qualifying regiment where the officers weeded out the real Green Berets from the wannabes. It was essentially 24 days of non-stop missions meant to break your will to continue. Hundreds enter. Only a handful makes it out. It was probably the toughest test I took to date. It required me to adapt my bodies in ways I never expected._

 _This ended up creating a problem though. Because when I made it through the final test, I did so with colors so flying that it made my superior officers suspicious. They thought I cheated somehow. They assumed no one could be that good without some help. At this point I couldn't hide my mutant status any longer. A quick physical proved it. I was a mutant and because I didn't disclose that, everything I worked for hung in the balance. It was the first time I started resenting my powers and it wouldn't be the last either._

Captain Freeman reached another intersection. To his right was a fast food restaurant and while he was waiting to cross the street, two little kids came rushing out. One of them was wearing a toy mask of some monster. The other kid had this T-shirt with a picture of the X-men on it. As controversial as mutants were, that didn't stop some people from profiting on the controversy of the X-men. These kids didn't seem to care for that controversy as they ran past him.

"Get back here creature of Magneto! I am an X-man and I, Cyclops, will stop you with my ice powers!" proclaimed the younger boy.

"Cyclops doesn't have ice powers, stupid! He shoots lasers from his eyes!" said the older boy.

"No! He has ice powers! And I'll use them to take you down, evildoer!"

While the younger boy chased his brother, their mother came running out of fast food restaurant carrying bags of groceries. She stumbled a bit as she tried to catch up with her overly energetic kids.

"Both you little sugar-fiends, get back here!" she ordered, "We're running late for your doctors appointment!"

"Aw come on, mom! Are you really going to stop the X-men from saving the day?" whined the younger boy.

"Not even the X-men will be able to save you if you don't get over here this instant!"

This was enough to settle the boys down. They ran back towards their mother, who was loading her bags of groceries into her car. The kids were still fooling around, playing hero and pretending to be the X-men. For some it was cute. For Jack Freeman, it was a harsh reminder of his ongoing conflict between being a mutant and a soldier.

 _I never lied to myself. I know my powers are a big reason why I was able to excel in my training. However, I wanted my mutant powers to be secondary. I saw myself as a soldier. I didn't want to just be some mutant freak who played soldier. That's the kind of thing the X-men do. I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be more._

 _For a while I may not have had the chance. My officers weren't sure what to do with me because it looked like mutants were going to be banned from the military any day now. So they didn't want to commit. That's when I had another stroke of luck. My performance in training caught the eye of a General named Nathan Grimshaw. This man would pick up where Lieutenant Lenny Romita left off and go further._

 _Grimshaw was the first officer who saw past my anti-social exterior. He once said he looked me in the eye and saw a real soldier, one that went beyond mutant powers. For that reason, he agreed to take me under his wing. My drill sergeants were all too happy for him to get me off their hands. There was no way I would make it into a squad or a team so the General would have to find other ways of using my skills. I quickly learned that Nathan Grimshaw could adapt to a situation better than I could._

 _At the time, General Grimshaw was an up-and-coming name in the world of warfare. He didn't get a chance to participate in many major operations so he dealt mostly in small, localized conflicts. He would send small, covert operations into active or potential war zones. He loved to walk a fine line between mitigating a conflict and provoking it. He needed someone who could adapt to the situation and I fit the bill perfectly._

 _I still remember how messed up I was about my first mission. It was a simple rescue operation in Columbia. This drug cartel abducted a high-ranking ambassador. They needed to get them out. I went in ahead of a small reconnaissance team. It didn't exactly go smoothly. All my training couldn't prepare me for what I faced. I made it past the first round of guards. Then I flat out tripped over a guy and set of some alarms. It got pretty hectic. I had an entire cartel bearing down on me so I had to improvise._

 _It happened to be late at night and pouring rain, which wasn't unusual for the jungle. So instead of wasting bullets on the soldiers, I shot out the lights. I carved out my own little path of darkness and adapted my eyes so that I could see in the dark. It allowed me to get in close to take out these cartel thugs. The first time I had to kill one of them, I made sure it wasn't pleasant. Grimshaw warned me of it. When a soldier first kills a man, it's a test of his resolve. If he hates it, then he's a good soldier. If he likes it, then he's dangerous. I like to think I passed with flying colors._

 _I tried to keep the killing spree to a minimum. I managed to fight my way into the compound, find the ambassador, and use my body as a shield while I got him out. I got yelled at for setting off the alarms, but the ambassador was safe and we avoided an international incident. It took me a few days to really process everything. Being on a mission, taking a life, and serving my country were all new feelings. When it finally sank in, I realized something profound. I was a soldier. I was proud of myself. This is what I was meant to be._

Jack sighed to himself and crossed the street. It was impossible to avoid, him being a mutant in addition to being a soldier. It was easy for others to lump him with teams like the X-men. Even though he had a healthy dose of respect for the X-men, he was not like them. He was a soldier. That's how he saw himself. That's how he wanted others to see him. The whole hero act wasn't for him and he never aspired to be that way.

After crossing the street, he passed by a few news kiosks. In one of them the front page of USA Today blared a major headline.

"CHARLES XAVIER AND X-MEN TO BE HONORED AT WHITE HOUSE."

It was framed as good news. Charles Xavier and the X-men were instrumental in stopping the Legacy Virus. They deserved recognition. However, it still left Jack Freeman conflicted.

 _I'll never understand it. Someone is born with powers, they put on a costume, and play hero. It sounds so noble. Maybe it doesn't work for me because I know I'm a loser and a lowlife. Being a hero isn't enough. I have to be a soldier._

 _After my first mission, I pretty much became General Grimshaw's go-to guy. I was on the front lines of his every operation. My missions took me to Eastern Europe, North Africa, the Congo, Southeast Asia, China, South America, and the Middle East. I'm pretty sure I've visited every time zone and stepped on every continent, including Antarctica (long story there). The missions I went on rarely required diplomacy or complex tasks like hacking a computer. I was strictly a throw-into-the-fire-and-watch-him-come-out-with-the-goods type guy. Thanks to my training and my powers, I was good at what I did._

 _I was so good that I ended up making myself an asset. I was eventually promoted to the rank of Captain. Even the officers who didn't like my attitude had to admit I did a damn good job. They called me a renegade, but I was a renegade that got the job done. So when an international treaty was passed by the UN banning all mutants from the military, General Grimshaw was able to pull enough strings to get an exception. I'm not sure of the legality. I think the way it works is I was scheduled to be discharged, but the date keeps getting pushed back. It's not pretty. I'll still take it. Anything that allows me to keep being a soldier._

 _Over the years, I refined my skill. I went on mission after mission, taking everything the General threw my way. Sometimes other officers sent me on missions. I did a few operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. I worked with other Special Forces units like SEALS and marines. I even worked with some UN forces on humanitarian missions in hostile territory. I still never made too many friends so I settled for respect. There were times I was sent on missions that nobody expected me to come back from. I kept adapting and surviving, much to the chagrin of some officers. The looks on their faces never gets old._

 _When I wasn't on a mission, I was training. Since I've got a below average IQ, I have to compensate by being physically and mentally tougher than my enemies. There was always something to do. I found it helpful to stay busy because it kept me from falling back into old habits. I never wanted to go back to being Jack Freeman again. I needed to remain Captain Jack Freeman, Green Beret and soldier of the United States Armed Forces. So when General Grimshaw came to me with his plan for the mutant conflict, I was pretty torn. To this day, I'm still not sure about it._

Jack kept staring at the headline on the paper. The same story blared on other papers. The X-men were getting honored for their heroics. There were even a few smaller stories about how the Legacy Virus proved that mutants may not be the biggest threat. It was good news for human/mutant relations. For Jack, it meant his mission would become more complicated.

While he mused over this mission, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper. On it was private contact information for the X-men. He didn't tell anyone in the Pentagon he had this information. Cyclops gave it to him with the understanding that they could help each other. Soldier or hero, their missions were intertwined. If he felt the people he worked for were losing sight of their mission, he had someone to turn to. He had recently turned to the X-men when it seemed nobody had an answer for the Legacy Virus. That didn't mean he wasn't bothered by it.

 _I avoided mutant affairs for a reason. I didn't want to get caught up in something that would make me more mutant than soldier. General Grimshaw is the one who took up this challenge. He asked for my help and I gave it to him. It started with me stealing Magneto's helmet from Genosha. That got him the credibility he needed to form the Mutant Security Agency. Now he's the one everyone is turning to for answers to the mutant controversy. As his right-hand-man, I'm going to be affected by it._

 _I'm still not sure if this is a mission that can be accomplished. Policing mutants and equipping law enforcement to deal with them is all well and good. As a former street punk, I know how some people with too much power can become arrogant jerks that need a kick in the balls. However, there are still the Magnetos and Sinisters of the world. These are the kinds of men who for whatever reason have a perverse desire to destroy this world and impose what they feel is better. Unlike the rogue dictators or terrorists I deal with, they actually have the power to do so._

 _Magneto almost succeeded. During the Cambrian affair, he unleashed a menace that even he couldn't control. For a moment every mutant on the planet was a genuine threat. Even though the X-men put a stop to it, the whole affair put a serious dent in the idea that mutants could be held to the same standard as humans. He almost succeeded again with that alien tech. Where he got alien gear is beyond me, but it was somehow advanced enough to cripple every communication network on the planet. That could have brought the General's agenda down completely. Then he pulled a miracle and worked out that deal to trade alien tech with Genosha. To this day I still don't know how he managed to negotiate that._

 _Then came Sinister. I swear that guy makes Magneto look like a pre-schooler. I was caught up in his shit and didn't even know it. After that incident with Shaw Industries, Grimshaw had me investigate. My main mission now was to take down anyone who would destroy the Genosha treaty. I was pretty content just shooting up thieves, smugglers, and rogue dictators. Shaw Industries opened up a whole new can of worms when I found out that they actually funded Sinister. He was the one behind that techno-organic goop that made Weapon Plus. That kind of bullshit has no equal._

 _Sinister put us all on a mission that we weren't going to win. He was ahead of everybody. By the time I figured out his shady dealings along with the X-men, it was too late. He unleashed the Legacy Virus. Over 300 million deaths later, my head is still spinning. That kind of body count is bad enough. What worries me now is where it goes from here._

Captain Freeman was still tempted to throw the number away. It happened pretty often. Whenever he thought about the X-men and how they obscured his mission, he considered casting them aside. Then another part of him remembered that they had done plenty of good. They acted as a balance for the MSA and the people that ran it, who weren't always altruistic to say the least.

"Still…you X-men keep making my job harder," Jack sighed.

Shaking his head, he put the slip of paper back in his pocket and continued walking. This was one mission that was still unfolding. He couldn't barge through it like he had done with so many others. He had to be patient and let it unfold. It didn't sit well and it put him in an awkward position. The time may come where he had to choose between being a soldier and being a hero.

 _Maybe this is another reason why General Grimshaw ordered that I take a break. I can't afford to ignore this. Weapon Plus showed that people in very high places are willing to resort to extremes to combat mutants. The Legacy Virus showed that threats involving mutants had the potential for a hell of a blood bath. I love my country, but how do you fight for it when your leaders are threatening to destroy it?_

 _General Grimshaw understands that it won't take much to provoke a full blown human/mutant war. He believes that such a war will be as bad as World War III. Nobody will win. The human and mutant race may end up destroying one another, leaving cockroaches and rats to become the dominant species. I'm inclined to believe him. This is one mission I can't afford to screw up. The problem is whose side I support._

 _I'm a soldier. I want to keep being a soldier. If the day comes when President Kelly orders that mutants be hunted or detained, then I'll be more inclined to go with the X-men. If mutants like Magneto enter the picture again and threaten the whole human race, I'm inclined to stick with General Grimshaw and the MSA. All the while, I'm constantly reminded that I'm a mutant. I'll be affected by this. I can't win, but I sure can lose. It's just a matter of not losing big._

 _The world is going to be a very different place after this whole Legacy Virus affair. Maybe it'll get better or maybe it'll get worse. Either way, I'm a soldier in this mission. I'm going to be a soldier to the end. I'm not sure which side I'll end up supporting. It all depends on forces beyond my control. I can adapt to a lot of things, but I can't adapt to poor judgment. When the time comes, I need to be able to make the right call. Jack Freeman will find a way to fuck it up. That's why I have to be Captain Jack Freeman, a Green Beret and a mutant…not the other way around._

* * *

 **Up next: James Proudstar**


	2. James Proudstar

**X-men Supreme Reflections  
Volume 5**

* * *

 **James Proudstar's Reflections (** **AN: Takes place shortly after issue 125** **)**

 _When you've been an arrogant son-of-a-bitch all your life, a moment of clarity is like a kick in the balls. It's sobering and it hurts like hell. Some people never have that moment. They live their whole lives as unapologetic assholes who can't figure out why they keep screwing up. I consider those assholes lucky. They never have to go through the rough transition from arrogance to humility. It usually takes something painful to put you in your place. Losing your only brother is as painful as it gets._

James Proudstar was in a state of mourning. For the past four hours he had been sitting in the same stool at a pub in downtown Boston. It was late. All the drunks and party junkies were calling it a night. In wake of the Legacy Virus the party crowd was pretty light, but there were still plenty who needed to get drunk. James was among them and because of his mutant powers, it took some extra effort. He had guzzled enough booze to get a normal man pretty soused. He was only tipsy at the moment. He was working on changing that before the bar closed.

"Give me another one," he asked the bartender.

"Seriously?" replied the bartender, "Pal I don't what you got going on or what's protecting that liver of yours, but you're pushing the merits of alcoholism."

"Did you just come from your brother's funeral? Did you just stand over his grave and apologize for being such a prick?" retorted James, "If your answer is anything other than yes, then quit busting my balls and give me another one."

The bartender was silent for a moment. That wasn't typical drunk talk. Anyone who talked about the death of a loved one in a non-slurred tone at this hour had to be serious. So against his usual policies, he poured James another round.

"I'll be closing soon," he said as he handed him the drink, "At one point you'll have to find somewhere else to get drunk."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," said the Native American mutant, "Right now, I need you to keep it coming. I don't want to leave this place without being drunk."

The bartender didn't say another word, leaving James to his demons. He wasted no time in gulping down his next batch of liquor. He still wasn't feeling it as much as he wanted to. On any other night he would already be plenty drunk. After losing his brother, there was only so much alcohol could do.

 _Damn it, John. Why did you have to die? Why did you have to be the good brother who did the right thing while I made an ass of myself? We've both screwed up plenty in our time, but at least you always did the right thing. It didn't matter if you messed up or failed. You could always go home with a clear conscious. That's just how you were. That's how you always were. Since I was three years older, I always felt ahead. You had to work harder to measure up. It made you a better man and it made me a total prick._

 _We were both born under some pretty rough circumstances. We grew up on the Apache reservation at Cape Verde, Arizona. It's not a hot vacation spot to say the least. It's a desolate patch of the American Southwest that our people call home. It's a land of poor ranchers, poor farmers, and poor everything else. Native American reservations aren't known for being cosmopolitan and that always wore heavily on our father._

 _In a ways our dad had the heaviest burden of all. He was a pretty important figure in the tribe. The Proudstar family can trace its linage back to a warrior class that used to fight for the Apache people. Our grandparents were warriors. Their grandparents were warriors. As a boy I heard all sorts of stories about my ancestor's exploits. It was said that they could tap the strength of the Great Spirit in a way no other warrior could. I wonder now if that meant they were mutants as well. Whatever the case, we were expected to follow in their footsteps._

 _Fate wasn't going to make it easy. Because of my father's high standing in the tribe, he was expected to be an effective leader. Life wasn't getting much better for our people and a big part of that was because the chiefs everyone had placed their trust in before had found a way to mess things up. They were unable to get any aid from the government. They botched a few land deals that could have really helped us. My father was the guy everyone turned to and he wasn't equipped to handle it. I guess that was the first sign that luck wasn't on our side._

 _John and I spent must most of our early childhood on a ranch, wrestling cattle and learning the warrior traditions of our people. It was a rough life, but it got rougher the more time my dad spent trying to live up to the tribe's expectations. He wasn't nearly as effective as everyone wanted. Our family had a tradition of warriors, not chiefs. He started drinking to deal with his frustration. It made him pretty mean. There were a few times he slapped us around. My mother got a taste of it as well. She was the only lucky one. She died when I was seven._

 _That was my first taste of death and it messed me up in ways I wouldn't understand until now. My father took it as a personal failing. What happened is my mother had been pushing herself to run the ranch on her own with limited help from the neighbors. All this time out in the hot sun wasn't good for her skin. She developed skin cancer and it went undiagnosed. One of the many problems we had at the reservation was lousy health care. My dad had been working to improve it, but he didn't improve it fast enough. By the time my mom was diagnosed, it was too late._

 _Her death marked the first conflict between me and John. Him being younger, he was closer to her. He let himself mourn. I found it easier to just swallow my sorrow and move on. That's not a healthy way to deal with death. I would call him a sissy. We were supposed to be warriors and warriors had to be strong in the face of death. To him, sorrow was a strength. I didn't agree. From there, it all went downhill._

James groaned as he swallowed another gulp of his drink. He was about halfway done and still not feeling it. Slouching over the bar, he rubbed his pounding head. It felt like the hangover was already creeping up on him. That or all these feelings of torment were taking a toll. He wasn't the only one dealing with death after the Legacy Virus and somehow he felt like he was coping the worst.

He was abruptly jolted from his daze when he heard the sound of a bottle breaking across the bar. Some other guy sitting at a table had just thrown his empty beer bottle on the floor. When he tried to stand up, he stumbled and knocked over the table.

"This beer sucks!" he said in slurred tone, "My wife dies from that Leggidy Virus shit and you guys can't serve decent booze? What kind of place is this?!"

"Alright buddy, I think you've had enough," said the bartender, walking out from behind the bar to restrain the unruly drunk.

James watched the scene unfold. It would have been comical if it wasn't so tragic. The drunk didn't fight or make a scene. He could barely stand as the bartender tried to help him to the door. At one point he stumbled over and started crying uncontrollably.

"Whhhhyyyyyy!" he exclaimed, "W-W-Why did she have to die?! Oh baby, I miss you! I s-s-sorry we never went to Paris!"

"Sorry pal, I ain't your wife. But if you stop crying, I'll call you a cab to get you home where you can bawl in peace," said the bartender.

The man kept on crying as he stumbled over another table. James couldn't help but empathize with him. He wasn't crying, but he was in the same kind of pain. He had lost someone. That sort of pain changed people and not always for the better.

 _Once mom died, it got a lot worse for everybody. My dad started drinking even more. That did little to help his standing in the tribe. He kept failing at every effort to make life better for the Apache. Besides booze, the only way he coped was putting me and John through the same training he went through as a kid. Some of our neighbors had trained in the tradition of Apache warriors so my dad made sure that every day after we finished our chores, we would spend time training._

 _It was at this point I realized that life on the reservation wasn't going to get any better. I needed to find a way out and warrior training seemed like the only viable option. I sure as hell wasn't going be a rancher. The warrior tradition in my family wasn't just for stories. It was how John and I were going to make our mark on the world. We just didn't agree on how we would make it._

 _It started simple with concentration exercises and channeling our inner spirit. I didn't care for it at first, but John sure got into it. I get the sense that it helped him cope with mom's death. For me, it just made me anxious to fight. When we got to basics, I didn't hold back. I actually impressed the tribal elders with my toughness and grit. John impressed them as well with his focus and dedication. We both had a touch of arrogance. Mine was way worse than his. We learned strategy, technique, and endurance. We had to run several miles while carrying a heavy load on our backs. And we were doing this before we were teenagers. What kept us going was our sibling rivalry. I was usually ahead because I was older, but John was never far behind._

 _By the time we got to hand-to-hand combat, we were making a name for ourselves throughout the reservation. They called John the Thunderbird for his bird-like grace. They called me Warpath because I fought like I was an unstoppable force. We embraced it, but I was dumb enough to let it go to my head. When I was seventeen and John was fourteen, I let myself go a bit._

 _I cut back on my training and tried to enjoy myself. I hung out with girls and traveled off the reservation to go to parties. Being a rugged Apache rancher was kind of a spectacle to the outside world. It seemed strange to me because for all the training I did, there weren't too many battles to fight. I started wondering if maybe there was an easier way. It was the first of many mistakes._

 _While I slacked off, my brother caught up to me. One day when I was eighteen and John was fifteen my father walks up to us and said we needed to put our training to the test. I don't know if he was drunk or anything, but I hadn't seen him that serious since mom died. He took me and John across the reservation to participate in a tournament. It was a tournament of all the best warriors in the reservation. My dad made it clear that he expected the two of us to be in the final match. John and I weren't sure what to make of it, but we went with it._

 _It was the first major tournament we participated in. John wasn't the youngest entry and I wasn't the oldest, but we breezed through the competition. John took down this one guy who had to be twice his size. I fought of this other guy who had reflexes so fast they said he could strike with the speed of a rattlesnake. All our training was really put to the test and we passed every obstacle. As expected, John and I were in the final match._

 _For this fight it wouldn't be just a hand-to-hand braw. The final fight required that we up the ante. An Apache shaman gave us both traditional Apache knives. The test was simple. Whoever cut their enemy first to draw blood won the fight. I was bigger and stronger so I figured it would be an easy win for me. I was wrong._

 _We stood out in the middle of the ranch in 110 degree heat. We had nothing on but a pair of ceremonial lions. My father along with everyone else on the reservation watched the fight. When it began, I immediately went for the quick finish. John was ready for me. He used cunning and agility. He got me frustrated and unfocused. Then when I tried to cut him right across the chest, he ducked by and got me. He cut a nice long gash right across my face. When I felt the blood in my hands, I was shocked. I was probably the only one because John proved something that day. He proved that he was the better warrior._

 _Needless to say, I didn't take it very well. I found out that my father put is in this tournament because he wanted to see which son was most dedicated. I was almost as mad at him as I was at John. I was humiliated in front of the entire tribe. I was supposed to be the one who embodied the Proudstar warrior heritage. Now I find out that John is ahead of me? I wouldn't have it._

 _Later that night I demanded a rematch with John. He refused, saying that beating him again wouldn't prove anything. I didn't take no for an answer. We fought and yelled at each other. We came close to beating each other to a pulp. Finally, John agreed. Me being the overly dramatic type, I upped the ante. I had it take place atop a hill that overlooked the ranch. It was dangerous and jagged. That didn't bother me. I wanted to prove myself._

 _As it just so happened, that night was a night of a rare monsoon. Arizona may be a desert, but it does rain once in a while. This night was the worst I had ever seen it. I felt as though the spirits were egging me on. So with our knives in hand, we went at it. We thrashed and stabbed at one another. It was pretty intense with all the thunder and lightning flashing above us. It was like a scene from a horror movie or something. Then something happened that neither of us expected._

 _Atop that hill on that stormy night, John and I found out we were mutants. In hindsight, thrashing metal knives at one another during a monsoon probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world. We shouldn't have been too shocked when in the middle of the fight, a bolt of lightning struck us._

 _In an instant everything stopped. We were so paralyzed that our bodies went ridged and we tumbled down the hill. We rolled along gravel, jagged rocks, and thick mud. We should have broken at least half the bones in our body. However, when we came to we didn't have a scratch on us. John also noticed that the wound on my face had healed. That's when we knew that something very unusual just happened. It was something that changed our lives and tore us apart even more._

James gulped down the rest of his drink. He still wasn't feeling it. He was starting to get a little pissed. Getting drunk had always been a challenge. Being so durable meant it took more alcohol to get the effect he wanted. Looking at his empty drink and all the other empty glasses around him, it was pretty depressing.

By now the bartender had returned from helping that crying drunk out of the bar. He looked pretty flustered. As soon as he was behind the counter again, James held up his empty glass.

"You want another one? Here! Take the whole damn bottle!" said the bartender in a fit of frustration, "You want to kill yourself with booze? Go ahead!"

The bartender tossed a big bottle of whiskey right at him. James caught it in both hands, not saying a word as the bartender stormed through a door into his office. It had been a long night for him just as it had been for James. He looked at the bottle briefly before opening it. He was still inclined to drink away his sorrows, yet this time he hesitated.

 _We got the news from one of the Apache elders. He told me and John that we were different in a way that went beyond our spirits. We were mutants. Our enhanced agility and reflexes was beyond human. We had superhuman strength and durability. This is why they said our ancestors were so gifted. They were carriers of this power. Now we had inherited it. So the next big question was how were we going to use it?_

 _Since I was 18 I didn't have to wait to make my choice. As far as I was concerned, I had lost the respect I once had on the reservation. Since John beat me, I would have to gain respect from the outside world. So I told my father that I was going to leave the reservation. I didn't have a plan or anything. I was just going to leave, find a cause to fight for, and use my warrior skills to their full potential. This time John would be the one who got left behind. He was only 15 so he could only watch._

 _Needless to say my father was dead set against it. He told me I wasn't ready to head out into the world. I was too arrogant and pig-headed. I didn't listen. I was still reeling from losing the tournament. When it became clear to my father that I wasn't going to be reasoned with, he shook his head in disappointment and called me a fool. That would be the last message I ever got from my father._

 _The very next day, I packed up my stuff and hitched a ride off the reservation. I didn't say goodbye. I didn't even pay my mother's grave a visit before I left. It was a dick move, no doubt about it. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't have to think. I had the warrior skills of an Apache and mutant powers that made me unstoppable. I thought there was nothing I couldn't do. Boy was I wrong._

James scowled himself and begrudgingly opened the bottle of whiskey. It was an oversized bottle so if he guzzled this, he was sure to get drunk. He took a small sip to make sure that it was potent enough. When he felt the burning sensation of the fluid in the back of his throat, he knew this was it.

"If you were here, John…you'd say I was a new kind of pathetic," he said to himself.

He prepared to take a nice big gulp. He needed to befuddle his brain so that it would stop tormenting him. The bottle was right at his lips when for some reason, he stopped. The sweet daze of drunkenness was literally within his grasp. Now suddenly he couldn't go through with it. Looking at his reflection in the bottle, he scowled himself even harder.

 _The next few years would be a lesson in humility. On the reservation, I could get away with being an ass because of my warrior status. As soon as I left, I found out that any status I had back home amounted to jack shit._

 _My first stop was Phoenix, Arizona. I hitched a ride into the heart of the city and tried to put my skills to work. I joined a few boxing clubs and got involved in mixed martial arts. I assumed my skills would lead me to fame, fortune, and prestige. I underestimated how being a mutant and Native American really messed my shit up._

 _It was easy for me to beat up on the competition because of my powers. It was hard to strike it big because being a mutant gave me such an unfair advantage that it disqualified me from every match and fight club in the area. When I tried to get an agent, I was pretty pissed when I found out that every fighting organization had banned mutants outright. So I had all these warrior skills and no way to use them._

 _With fame and fortune out of the question, I ended up working construction in Las Vegas. It was pretty degrading. I was so pissed. I was a warrior who now worked a minimum wage job with the freak label. It used to be that being able to bench press steel beams with one hand impressed people. Now it scared everybody. Add racism into the mix and every benefit I thought I had was completely outweighed by new problems. I had no idea that mutants had it so rough. So after a few years of being put down and held back, I decided that I would use my warrior skills to fight for mutants everywhere. I would make it so mutants like me could use their powers to rise above society's limits._

 _Me being the arrogant, uneducated asshole I was I really had no idea where to begin. At the time mutants were becoming a bigger issue. The end of the Cold War meant that the world needed something else to fear. Mutants were quickly filling that role. I started off by hitch-hiking to big cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Dallas. I would join in these mutant demonstrations and meet up with these small mutant communities. They weren't very big and often got crushed by the authorities or counter-demonstrations. I would be the extra muscle that intimidated the opposition. Being so hot-headed, I couldn't help but flex my muscle a bit._

 _I remember this one demonstration in Los Angeles with the local mutant community. A large group of anti-mutant demonstrators met us downtown. It got pretty ugly. They threw rocks, beer cans, and pretty much anything else they had on hand at us. A lot of the mutants at the protest weren't fighters. They were like me, unable to make a living because their powers rendered them freaks and outcasts. So I fought for them. When this one guy came at this teenage kid with a metal baseball bat, I stepped in front of him and ripped the bat from his hands. Then with my strength, I bent it into a pretzel. It sent a hell of a message, but it also got me into a lot of trouble._

 _The protest turned into a real mess that caused the city to unleash the riot police. The protesters swarmed me. I treated it like a real war. That ranks right up there with one of the dumbest decisions I ever made. I used my strength and skill to fight off these people. None of them were warriors. They were office workers, housewives, and students. I injured no fewer than twenty people. Five of them were hurt seriously. I would have fought them all off if the riot police hadn't hit me with tear gas. When all was said and done, I realized I did more harm than good._

 _I spent a few nights in jail. While I was there I saw a news report on the affair. The headlines read something along the lines of "Mutant Protest Turns Ugly. Angry Mutant Injures Five Officers." It was pretty lopsided. Now people were more afraid and more hostile of mutants. I just gave them more reasons by showing that the police couldn't protect the public from guys like me._

 _This is when my path finally caught up with John's. He's the one that bailed me out. He came by with the backing of Charles Xavier, who had a really well-paid lawyer named Amelia Voight who was able to fight off the serious charges against me. It was during this time that I learned what John had been up to._

 _While I was off failing at putting my warrior skills to good use, John joined the marines as soon as he turned 18. He wasn't going to have much of a life at the reservation so he figured he would be a soldier if he couldn't be a warrior. Even he admitted it may not have been the best way to go. There was a standing treaty that banned mutants from the military. So he tried to keep his mutation a secret. That didn't last too long. It didn't help that John didn't get along with his officers. Being a warrior is different from being a soldier and that didn't mesh well with John. So as soon as the military found out he was a mutant, they gave him a dishonorable discharged and threatened to court marshal him._

 _Charles Xavier and his X-men gave him a new outlet. He told me how he was using his training to teach these young teenage mutants how to fight. I thought it was a joke. Seeing these kids run around in costumes rescuing cats from trees just seemed like a shameless stunt. So when John offered me a chance to join them, I pretty much spit in his face. I thought he was doing our family a disservice by joining the X-men. I told him that I was going to do him one better. I only ended up proving him right._

James set the bottle down on the bar and kept staring at it. His hand quivered, wanting desperately to take it and chug it all at once. He kept holding back. It was as if John was actually standing behind him, his arms folded as he scowled him for being so foolish. It used to be that John's disapproval was easy to brush off. Now that he was gone, it was a lot harder. Every lesson he never learned was coming back to haunt him.

Instead of grasping the bottle, James Proudstar hunched over the bar and buried his face in his arms. He roughly pounded his fist in frustration, leaving a sizable dent. Since the bartender hadn't come from out back there was no one there to scorn him. He had enough personal reasons to scorn himself as it stood. The Apache warrior seethed in frustration as he tormented himself over his brother's loss.

 _Once again, John showed that he was the smarter brother. As soon as I got out of jail, I fell back into old habits. I linked up with mutant protesters and struggling mutant communities. I used my warrior skills to teach them how to fight back while John used those same skills to teach the X-men how to defend themselves. It was a serious contrast and it played out in some pretty ugly ways._

 _Over the next few years I took part in more protests. Many of them got pretty ugly. I used a bit more tact so I wouldn't go back to jail, but teaching disgruntled mutants to fight back came at a price. When they used their powers to hurt, injure, and sometimes kill people it gave mutants a bad name. Hatred for mutants kept on growing and there were a number of times that John and the X-men had to come clean up my mess._

 _One mess in particular I'm sure he didn't remember fondly was an incident with the Morlocks. I found out in this mutant ghetto that there was a whole subterranean mutant society living in sewers all over the world. I traveled down there to see for myself. When I met up with Healer and Callisto, they weren't too trusting of me. Then when I taught them how to fight, they were a bit more welcoming. I thought I was doing a good thing. These guys had it pretty rough. Many of them didn't look human enough to even walk around at night. If anyone deserved to fight back, it was them._

 _So when the Morlocks planned a widespread attack on the surface world's utility grid, I didn't stand in their way. I actually encouraged it by helping them disrupt water and sewage systems in over a dozen major cities. It turned into a real mess. Then the X-men showed up. I actually fought against them this time. John was there and it almost turned into a rematch of the tournament. It never got that far. The X-men learned well from John because they weren't just able to defeat the Morlocks. They were able to negotiate with Healer. They got the Morlocks to call off the attack. It may have saved them all because the authorities were planning on dumping poison gas into the sewer. That little tidbit turned the Morlocks against me and they pretty much banished me for life. John and I had a few shouting matches, but beyond that we parted on lousy terms yet again._

 _That incident would have been nasty enough. An even worse incident unfolded in San Francisco about a year after the Morlocks debacle. I met up with this guy who called himself Dr. Demonicus. Looking back on it, that name should have been a red flag. He was some eccentric geneticists who used radiation to enhance his mutation. Somehow that made him durable and super smart in addition to giving him some firepower. He got to be so powerful that he developed a cult following on the west coast. He recruited me to train his followers and I agreed. I thought this guy was onto something. You would think after the Morlocks, I wouldn't be so damn stupid._

 _Dr. Demonicus unleashed some radiation bomb that caused mass evacuations from a good chunk of San Francisco. He wanted to use that area to great a mutant reservation, one where mutants could independently live their lives without completely detaching themselves from the outside world. At least that's what it was supposed to be. I found out that Demonicus just wanted his own kingdom. I didn't find that out quick enough though. I foolishly helped the son-of-a-bitch while he worked on unleashing an even bigger radiation bomb. That's when the X-men showed up._

 _This time, John and I had our rematch. I fought him while the X-men fought Demonicus. It was a pretty nasty fight. I hit John a lot more than he hit me, but he made his shots count. Even with durability and strength, we wore each other down. When I went for the final blow, John kicked me right out of a window and I fell 34 stories onto a parked car. I survived, but I was humiliated once more. If the first defeat sent a message, then this one forcibly crammed that message into my head. John was right. I was wrong._

 _The X-men eventually defeated Dr. Demonicus. They helped clean up the city and arrest Demonicus's accomplices. They ended up getting the key to the city and a celebratory parade. All the while I managed to slip away. For a while I thought John listed me as an accomplice. He didn't. I was never mentioned in the list of names still wanted for Dr. Demonicus's shenanigans. It was John's way of letting me know that we were still brothers. He hadn't given up on me even though I hated his guts. That or he knew I would punish myself more than any prison sentence. I'm not sure if he was being compassionate or cruel. All I know is that incident was a turning point._

James rose up from the bar, taking deep breaths and trying to collect himself. The bottle of whisky was still staring at him, taunting him in his pathetic state. James scolded it, torn on whether he should chug it or throw it into the next zip code. He clenched his fists as more frustration welled up inside him.

Then the Apache warrior reached into his pocket and pulled out the beaded necklace he got from Storm earlier. It was his last gift from John, a memory from his mother that he once threw away in frustration. Looking down at it, the anger finally waned. This simple yet meaningful relic held so much significance. John kept it all these years and now that he was gone, he was left to draw strength from it.

"Still can't believe he kept it," said James distantly, "He remembered long after I forgot. It's a good thing one of us did."

 _After the Demonicus incident, I allowed myself to fade into obscurity. I was content to forget my mistakes. That may have been the biggest screw-up of them all. I should have learned from them. Apathy can be way worse than hate._

 _I moved as far away from the conflict as I could. I slipped over the boarder into Mexico and did odd jobs for money. I wasn't involved in mutant affairs anymore. I kept my powers to myself and tried not to make too many friends who would get suspicious. The whole time I kept up with John and the X-men. I saw their exploits. I saw all the good they were doing for mutant-kind, using their powers to be heroes instead of warriors. What I once wrote off as a stunt ended up being more meaningful than anything I was ever a part of. I couldn't help but be a little jealous. This time I didn't use it to lash out at anybody. I was content to wallow in my own sorrow._

 _My self-loathing continued until the day I got some terrible news from the reservation. My father had died. I wish I could say that his death hit me pretty hard. I never shed a tear and hate myself for it now. I hope John shed enough for both of us. Shortly before this, the X-men had unmasked. John was taking a lesser role with the X-men. When he got the news, he quit the X-men. He made the difficult decisions that I always avoided. He actually returned to the reservation and helped stabilize the community. I didn't show up until after the funeral. John and I didn't fight this time. We didn't make up either._

 _While standing over our father's grave, he didn't just scorn me. He challenged me. John told me that I was doing our warrior tradition a disservice. I was shaming our people by being so selfish. I didn't argue with him. I didn't even say I would make it up to him. I just said I would stop running. I'm not sure if that's what he wanted to hear. After father's death, neither of us were equipped to make any big decisions._

 _We both stayed at the reservation for a few months. John did most of the heavy lifting, rallying the community to carry on. I stayed in the background, unsure of what I could do to make things better. Then John found a new way to get resources for the Apache. This private military company called White Cell showed up and offered John a job. They specialized in employing mutants and if John worked with them, they would provide badly needed resources for the reservation. John being John, he made the difficult decision to leave the reservation again. I personally didn't care for the people at White Cell. That didn't stop them from delivering._

 _For the next few years, John spent most of his time off the reservation doing work for White Cell. I don't know what that work entailed. It was mostly private security contracting, whatever that entails. During that time, money and resources poured in. I stayed behind to help out as much as I could. I was still a pariah within my community. People tend to remember when you leave your home behind in such a callous and selfish way. I was lost and upset with myself. I had no idea how I was going to make up for the years of bullshit._

 _Years went by. The mutant conflict kept growing. There was the uprising on Genosha, the asteroid plot, and the sentinels. I was tempted to play a part, but never did. I didn't want to screw it up again. I focused on the little things, helping my people at the reservation use the resources that John was bringing in. Then a new opportunity literally walked up to me. That opportunity had a name along with big boobs…Emma Frost._

James's tension eased somewhat. Holding the beaded necklace gave him the strength to stop hating himself. He actually felt tears forming in his eyes. The Apache warrior couldn't remember the last time he cried. He never allowed himself to because he refused to be weak. Now sitting alone in a bar with his entire family now dead, the Apache warrior stopped fighting the tears.

James Proudstar's strong hands actually trembled as he clutched the necklace. Looking up, he saw his reflection in the bottle of whiskey again. In that reflection there was a broken man, but unlike before there was a man who had a chance to make up for his mistakes. Even the Legacy Virus hadn't destroyed it. What his brother started, he could finish if only he could resist falling into old habits.

 _I admit I didn't know what to think when I saw this woman other than how she belonged in a Playboy spread. John told me about her. Emma Frost was also a former X-man and a bit of a drama queen. She had also made a lot of mistakes and was looking to make up for them. She just had recently caught up in an unpleasant affair with the X-men and some shadowy group called the Inner Circle. She came close to ruining everything so now she was looking to make up for it._

 _She happened to be rich as hell from managing a hedge fund. With that money, she wanted to start her own school in the same tradition of the Xavier Institute. Like Charles Xavier before her, she needed someone to help her train the students how to fight and also act as a body guard if necessary. While I wasn't sure about Frost, I made the hard decision for once and agreed to join her._

 _She didn't make it easy for me. She made sure she had the proper leverage. She used her money (and probably other assets I'm not aware of) to clean up my police record. Being involved in so many mutant protests did not help my reputation to say the least. Once she gave me a legitimate background, I returned the favor by helping her free the Stepford Cuckoos from Sebastian Shaw. Those strange and somewhat creepy triplets joined a fresh group of mutants in the newly founded Academy of Tomorrow. This is where my warrior training took on a whole new light._

 _At first I thought I was ridiculously out of place. There were only a few dozen students to start off with. None of them were warriors. None of them had X-men potential. I had to get a lot of help from Emma's other colleagues, Sunfire and Dr. Nemesis, to get a hold of the whole teaching concept. I still remember the first history class I taught being as hectic as my first fight._

 _Then I got around to actually training some of these kids. Emma had a knack for picking out hardened teenagers. Julian Keller, Sam Guthrie, Roberto Da Costa, Noriko Ashida, Tabitha Smith, and Danielle Moonstar set themselves apart as tougher than most jaded mutants. Laura Kinney and Amara Aquilla joined those ranks too. At first I though these were just kids, not fighters. But when I started training them, something remarkable happened. They demonstrated that they had the warrior spirit. I admit I was pretty rough on them at first. That didn't stop them from having a genuine desire to take what the X-men did and do it their way._

 _It was strangely rewarding, teaching those kids. I'm sure they hated my guts at first. Some may still hate me, but I know they respect me. They're not just students now. They're X-Factor, a team that goes back to the basics that the X-men got away from after they got all political with their cause. I've seen them work in the field. I've seen them take on guys like Rockslide and not flinch. They have the hearts of true warriors. It did more good than every protest I was ever a part of. I'm not afraid to admit it now. It felt good to do the right thing._

 _There were still complications here and there. Frost had me, Sunfire, Nemesis, and this Cypher kid keep tabs on Sebastian Shaw's cronies. I thought that was just a personal thing, but now I know how sick this man was. He had it out for Emma and wasn't afraid to get blood on his hands. He killed the other two Stepford Cuckoos. He helped that Sinister asshole develop his Legacy Virus. Emma sent X-Factor on their share of missions to take on Shaw. In the end it still wasn't enough._

 _That's what bugs me the most. I finally do the right thing. I get my act together, join the Academy of Tomorrow, and use my warrior skills to do good for both humans and mutants. Yet it still isn't enough to stop something like the Legacy Virus. It also wasn't enough to save my brother._

James's expression hardened. He wiped the tears from his eyes and picked up the bottle of whiskey. In one hand he had the beaded necklace, symbolizing everything that was good with his spirit. In the other he had a bottle of hard liquor, symbolizing the arrogance that led him to so many mistakes. These were the two conflicting forces in his life. They were dragging him in opposite directions and he was in position to make another foolish decision. This time, there was nobody who would be there to catch him if he fell.

John was gone. His parents were gone. He alienated his Apache brethren. He had nothing left but X-Factor and the Academy of Tomorrow. James Proudstar was in a vulnerable position. He couldn't afford to be arrogant anymore. He made a promise on his brother's grave. No matter how wounded his spirit, he would keep it.

"You were a great warrior, John. Now it's my turn. This time, I'm ready," said James strongly.

With a new sense of purpose, James set the whiskey bottle down on the bar. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a number of bills to pay his tab. With the beaded necklace still in hand, he left the bar with a stronger spirit.

 _In Apache tradition, the spirits of our ancestors are meant to strengthen the generations that follow. I'm the last Proudstar. My entire family legacy is now resting on my shoulders. The Legacy Virus ravaged the world. Humans, mutants, and everything in between are ripe with conflict. I used to think the way of the Apache warrior was no longer necessary. Now I know without a doubt that nothing could be more necessary._

 _I have my place with X-Factor and the Academy. I have allies in the X-men even if they're tenuous allies at best. If I have to earn my way out of obscurity, so be it. I'll fight those battles this time. John and I both believed we were destined for great things. He did his part as Thunderbird. Now I'm going to do mine as Warpath._

* * *

 **Up next: Emma Frost**


	3. Emma Frost

**Supreme Reflections  
Volume 5**

* * *

 **Emma Frost's Reflections (** **AN: Takes place shortly after issue 104)**

 _Ah, the joys of motherhood. Is this how it's supposed to feel? It's one of the most basic acts of any living thing. Reproducing is akin to survival. Yet when you've spent a lifetime clawing your way up that food chain, it's easy to lose sight of those basic things that bind everything together. I never had a problem with the sexual part of reproduction. It's the act of actually being responsible for my own children for which I'm horribly ill-equipped. That's as pathetic as it is ironic. I'm Emma Frost. I trained myself to handle anything. Guess that's something else I've failed at._

Emma Frost stood with a rare vulnerability in her poise. As a former X-man and current headmaster of the Academy of Tomorrow, she couldn't afford to be vulnerable. Her job required her to be strong in addition to being stunning. She never had a problem looking the part. Plastic surgery and a refined dress sense always took care of her outward appearance. It was her inner self that was as ugly as she was beautiful.

Emma should have been proud. Earlier in the week, Charles Xavier and a group of his X-men visited her Academy. They saw first hand what she had been working on since their last encounter. She made it clear that she was trying to make up for past mistakes. She even had a chance to prove the worth of her team, X-Factor, by sending them into the streets of Boston and stopping a confused mutant they codenamed Rockslide. It should have been a proud moment. It was hard to be proud when success came in wake of so many failures.

"It's been ten minutes, Phoebe. How much longer do you need to walk in those shoes to realize how fabulous they are?" said an exasperated Celeste.

"I'll walk in them as long as I need to," said Phoebe smugly as enjoyed her new attire.

"You know Miss Frost bought us more than one pair of shoes, don't you? At this rate you'll outgrow them all."

"Maybe you two should save the shoes for later and try this amazing dress," said Mindee, doing a little pose for her sisters, "Why give so much attention to your feet when you have your entire body to show off?"

"My method of showing off differs from yours," argued Celeste, "I prefer to start from the feet and work my way up. Miss Frost said it herself. Being fabulous is a process."

Emma held back a smile. Her girls were still adjusting to life outside a laboratory. They were quickly becoming the apple of their mother's eye. The three triplets known as the Stepford Cuckoos were her daughters that she only recently found out about. Watching them from atop the stairs as they unpacked their latest round of goodies in the foyer, she was reminded how overwhelming motherhood could be.

 _I hear it from every loudmouth mother who can't resist throwing her motherhood in everyone's face. Having children changes everything. You stop living for yourself and start living for others. I'll bet those women wouldn't be so annoyingly chipper if they found out they had teenage daughters that were cloned from their stolen eggs._

 _Motherhood is supposed to be instinctive. Those instincts go to hell when cloning, secrecy, and Sebastian Shaw are involved. I can't think of too many ways that my experience with motherhood has been ideal. The only benefit thus far is I never had to go through the so-called joys of childbirth. My pristine womanly form remains as intact as ever. I want to take comfort in that. Yet I'm left feeling sick to my stomach for having been so horrendously violated._

 _I should be used to it. I was once a top-class sex worker and an aspiring deviant. I was a poster-girl for women who should never have kids. It was part of a less-than-proud tradition in the Frost family. Sex and deviance are part of our heritage. That's what several generations of obscene greed and wealth will do to a family._

 _Unlike my Cuckoos, I was naturally born into this ugly world. My family was from old money. The Frost clan has been ridiculously wealthy for over six generations and my father, Winston Frost, was the latest to inherit that wealth. With my mother, Hazel Frost, they did their parental duty and produced heirs to the Frost fortune. I was one of them, a middle child of three daughters. My sisters, Adrienne and Cordelia got a head start into this world. My older brother, Christian, set the standard for the kind of trouble that would plague our family._

 _Giving birth to us was the most effort my parents ever put into their children. They weren't exactly nurturing. They were cold, strict, and about as loving as a hungry grizzly. It didn't help that my father had regular affairs. He didn't try to make a secret either. I don't even know if he slept in the same room as my mother. Rather than confront him, my mother drowned her sorrows in alcohol. She drank enough vodka to drown a Russian battalion. So it didn't come to anyone's surprise when she came down with liver disease. She died when I was seven._

 _It affected me more than the rest of my siblings. They found it easy to brush aside the death of our mother. My father didn't show much sorrow either. He shed a few tears over her grave and then went back to banging high-class call-girls. I was the only one for whom it lingered. It wasn't fair. I didn't understand the world I was living in. I was never truly comfortable in my own skin. That didn't stop me from falling into the Frost tradition of decadence. I barely managed to keep a sliver of my soul anchored to my heart._

The Stepford Cuckoos were starting to get rowdy. Celeste and Mindee started throwing their shopping bags and some of the new underwear they bought at Phoebe, who still refused to get out of her shoes.

"You see, Phoebe? Those shoes work against you when you have to be quick on your feet!" teased Mindee as she threw a couple of shoe boxes into her path.

"Oww!" groaned Phoebe upon stumbling over one of the boxes, "You two are really pushing it! You do know I won't let this stand, don't you?"

"We're a hive mind, sister," grinned Celeste, "We know what you're going to do and how satisfying it will be for us when you do it!"

In her frustration, Phoebe stepped out of her shoes and started chasing her sisters. Emma didn't step in. She kept watching from atop the staircase, astonished at how her girls could act like normal teenagers when so much about them wasn't normal. They were already more well-adjusted than she ever was. It was either a testament to how good her parenting skills were or how lousy her family's parenting skills had been.

 _My siblings each embodied a certain element of decadence. Adrienne was the oldest and the first one to discover how sex could be used as a weapon. By the time she was fifteen she was sleeping with her teachers and blackmailing them to get ahead. Most parents would be horrified by such behavior. For the Frost family, it was business as usual._

 _Cordelia was younger than me and didn't have Adrienne's bodily assets. But what she lacked in beauty, she made up for with brilliance. She was definitely the smart one. She skipped several grades ahead of me and found ways to rub it in everyone's face. She had an IQ that most would kill for and she used her brilliance in the same way Adrienne used her body. It got her ahead._

 _Then there was my brother, Christian. He was the second oldest and took a different yet equally deviant route. He didn't care about getting ahead. He only cared about having a good time. He cut class, thumbed his nose at authority, and experimented with drugs at a time when most kids were discovering internet porn. He was also gay, which didn't go over well with my father. But he could care less. By the time he was 17 he lived a rock star lifestyle, minus the music and women._

 _I never grew close to any of my siblings. I didn't have what they had. I wasn't as beautiful as Adrienne or smart as Cordelia. I didn't have Christian's spirit for adventure either. I was a complete and total pariah. My whole childhood was spent mostly in isolation. I avoided my siblings and they avoided me. In a ways that protected me from their influence, but it didn't stop them from looking down on me. To them I was just a frail little blonde too weak to handle the world._

 _I don't know how I coped. I tried to study so I could keep up with my sisters. I went to a fancy private school and learned inner workings of business at a young age. By some measures I excelled, but I was not Cordelia. One of the ways I tried to keep away from her was to lock myself in my room, sit all my stuffed animals in a row, and pretend that I was a teacher. It instilled in me a desire to teach that I wouldn't get a chance to explore until much later in life. For most of my childhood, it was a race to see who could be more decadent._

 _That childhood hit a major roadblock that destroyed my family. My siblings all had one essential luxury aside from their own decadent niches. They were completely devoid of empathy. For me, I endured it whether I liked it or not._

The commotion with the Stepford Cuckoos had settled down. Celeste and Mindee finally convinced Phoebe to get out of her shoes. She was still fuming. Her sisters continued laughing smugly. They made it up to her by tossing her a new box of shoes.

"Here…try these! They'll cheer you up," said Celeste.

"What's to stop you from taunting me again?" asked Phoebe dryly.

"They're easier to run in and they make your butt look nicer. I would know. I already tried them," grinned Mindee.

Phoebe continued to scorn her sisters before opening the box. Celeste and Mindee turned their attention to less volatile matters, grabbing some of the skirts from the bags and holding them against their developing frames.

They seemed to be having fun. They almost seemed normal, able to avoid the trauma they endured when feeling their other two sisters die. Emma leaned back against the wall and admired their strength. It was a strength she never developed when she was their age.

 _The beginning of the end for me came shortly after I turned 14. There had been some early warning signs beforehand. Credit cards stopped working and we started getting phone calls from banks. It turns out my father invested our money in an ill-advised business venture. This tech company was supposed to be the next Microsoft so my father doubled down on it. When their first line or products failed, their CEO resorted to a fraud that would put Bernie Madoff to shame. This not only destroyed the company. Every investor who put their money into it never got a penny in return. My father was the biggest investor and he staked pretty much our entire family fortune on it._

 _Me and my siblings were completely oblivious. As far as we knew, our family was still obscenely wealthy and kept living that way. As if fate wasn't cruel enough, this was the time when my telepathic powers started manifesting. It was small at first. I would pick up a few stray thoughts from my siblings or my classmates. Then it turned into a real pain. One day it got to be too much. I happened to pick up on Christian's thoughts while he was in withdraw from whatever substance he was addicted to at the time. I went to see my father for help._

 _I went to his office where he usually spent hours in seclusion. The door was opened and I walked in. He wasn't there so I was about leave. Then I heard some angry shouting from across the hall._

" _DAMN IT ALL TO FUCKING HELL!"_

 _I had heard that kind of obscenity from my father before. It usually led to the kind of outburst that would nominate my father for child abuser of the year. I panicked and ran into a nearby closet where he kept his business suits. I sat down, hugged my knees, and kept as silent as humanly possible while my father stormed in looking as though he was ready to strangle someone._

 _I watched as my father sat down behind his desk and just stared off into space for nearly a half-hour. I picked up on some of his thoughts. They were anything but pleasant._

' _All gone…the money's all gone.'_

' _I'm nothing. I'm weak.'_

' _Lousy kids don't understand. They'll never understand.'_

 _When he finally got up, it was to retrieve a twelve-gauge shotgun he kept in a case behind his desk. He also retrieved his finest bottle of hard liquor. He spent five minutes drinking down every last drop, savoring it in ways that are as disturbing to me now as then. The whole time I felt inclined to do something, but I was too damn scared. It was the last time I would ever endure such fear._

 _When he was done with the alcohol, he sat down in his seat. Then with me still watching, he put the shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I'll never forget the noise I heard. It was so deafening my ears are still ringing. That blast blew the entire top part of my father's head off. I actually felt splatters of blood and brain make it through the closet. If that wasn't bad enough, my burgeoning telepathy fully manifested at that point. So I actually felt my father's mind as it was destroyed._

 _It was a cold, dark feeling that left an indelible impression. It's a feeling I know my Cuckoos have experienced. They're young, but they're already stronger than I ever was. They'll never have to endure what I did after that fateful moment. It was the moment where Emma Frost died and the White Queen was born._

Emma had to look away from her girls. They may have been products of Sebastian Shaw's perversion, but they still had more innocence than she ever had. That innocence was precious and had to be defended at all costs. There was no way she was going to let her girls end up like her. She had to travel through many roads that passed straight through Hell. They deserved better than that.

Closing her eyes, Emma walked away into the darkened halls. Most of her students were still in class with Warpath and Dr. Nemesis. It was a cold feeling, being so alone. Emma Frost had lived most of her life with little support. It hardened more than her diamond shell.

 _The aftermath of my father's death can only be described as a fiasco wrapped in a disaster encased in a catastrophe. I was never the same. My siblings were never the same, albeit in a different capacity. Losing a lousy father was a secondary concern. Not having any money is what really spooked them. Adrienne and Cordelia tried to acquire what money they could to keep the family going. Christian took whatever he needed to continue his drug habit and skipped town. For me, the shock was almost as bad as my uncontrolled telepathy._

 _In the weeks that followed I struggled to process my father's death and hearing the thoughts of others. All around me I was surrounded by crude, dishonest brutes whose thoughts revealed their true nature. I sensed liars, thieves, and people who were just plain crude. They would act one way and think another. It was a troubling sensation and one that dented my respect for humanity._

 _I remember at my father's funeral sensing the thoughts of the priest. While he was talking about death and the heavens, I heard him thinking about how he was so sick of doing burials for rich pricks like the Frosts. I wouldn't have thought less of him for just that. Then he had to project how he wanted to get back to snuggling with his boyfriend. By boyfriend I meant a 19-year-old meth dealing male prostitute. It seemed as though nobody had any humanity. Any good a person showed was just a façade._

 _It got to the point where I started fighting back. With my telepathy I found out about all the sordid (and illegal) activities my sisters were doing. I found out about everyone Adrienne was sleeping with, which in and of itself is enough to fill several minds. I also found out the lengths Cordelia was going to in order to get our fortune back. I was so sick of their deception that I threatened to expose them. Their response was to call the nearest mental hospital and have me committed. That was the last time I ever saw my sisters and I hope I never see them again._

 _Whatever sisterly affection I had for those two was completely lost in that mental ward. That was a new level of torment that I don't care to experience again. I later found out that Adrienne slept with the head of that hospital and made sure that I would cause them no further trouble. I was kept in a secluded cell, given no means of contacting the outside world, and constantly drugged. Being a fifteen-year-old pretty blond didn't help either. Some of the orderlies got a little too 'friendly' to say the least. I was rendered completely powerless. It was in that state where I decided that I started to fight back._

 _First, I had to gain control over my powers. This was an arduous process. Every day during my brief moments of mental clarity, I worked on focusing my telepathy. There was no one there to help me. I had to help myself. Driven by so much anger and bitterness, I was plenty motivated._

 _Eventually, I refined my mental powers to the point where I could start influencing the thoughts of others. I started small, tweaking the perceptions of the doctors so they wouldn't give me as many drugs. Before long, I made it so they would walk into my room and only think they administered a dose. Once I was fully coherent, I planned my escape. I read the minds of every nurse and doctor to find a way out. Adrienne made sure I was kept in a very secure wing so I had to use drastic measures._

 _One night an armed security guard walked by my door. I pushed my telepathy to the limits and took control of his mind. I had him let me out and then I had him escort me out of the building. Along the way other guards and doctors came running at me. I had the guard shoot them or lock them out. I'm pretty sure at least one person died as a result. I don't care to know if he did. When I was finally out, I had the guard give me his car keys and then I erased his memories of the whole evening. I may have erased more since I was so inexperienced at the time, but I didn't care._

 _It set a new and dangerous precedent. Now I was free and had a new skill to help me fight back against a corrupt world. Adrienne had her sexuality, Cordelia had her brains, and Christian had his fearless decadence. I had my telepathy. I planned on using it to fight my way to the top, no matter what the cost. It was that foolish mentality that led me to making the biggest mistake of my life._

Emma could still hear her Cuckoos playing around downstairs. She was still standing alone in the darkness, conflicted by these feelings of maternal pride and self-loathing. It should have made her happy, the Cuckoos being in a better position than her when she was their age. Emma still questioned whether that was because of her or in spite of her.

"Ooohhhh we simply must try on these new skirts!" said Mindee.

"They're a little short, don't you think?" questioned Celeste, "We already sense plenty of lurid thoughts from the boys."

"And some of the girls as well," added Phoebe, "Who cares about lurid thoughts! Let's try them on together and take a picture for our Facebook page! I'm sure we'll gain plenty of admirers with outfits like these!"

"Even the creepy kind?" snickered Celeste.

" _Especially_ the creepy kind," said Mindee.

Emma's demeanor hardened. Her girls could joke with one another like regular teenage girls because they hadn't made the mistakes she had. They weren't in a difficult position that required them to sacrifice their humanity in exchange for material comforts. It was a position she hoped they never faced.

 _My girls can joke about that sort of thing now. For me, it was no laughing matter. As soon as I got out of the mental asylum, I had a hell of an uphill battle. I was flat broke and my sisters were intent on locking me away. I had no one to turn to. I still had plenty of assets. Being a pretty teenage blond with telepathy put in at a greater advantage than most teenage runaways._

 _My first stop was New York City. That's where Christian had moved after our father died. I didn't go to him begging for help. He wasn't in a position help much anyways. He was a junkie who was rapidly deteriorating. He was HIV positive on top of that. When I found him lying face down in some dilapidated apartment, I demanded he fork over whatever bit of Frost wealth he had left. He was too weak to really argue. He didn't have much anyways. It was just enough to get the ball rolling._

 _I realized that if I was going to work my way up, I needed to follow the lessons I learned in business school. I needed to foster connections and make deals. A normal teenager's options are limited, but a teenager with telepathy has a lot more going for her. With Christian's money, I bought myself some semi-fancy dresses and had an extensive make-over. Then I traveled to the heart of Wall Street and started pillaging thoughts from the rich and overprivileged._

 _I found out about affairs, inside deals, and frauds. With this information, I confronted these men and blackmailed them into giving me money. For those who were a bit too clean for such sordid details, I used another method…one that I learned from Adrienne. Instead of telepathy, I would use my pretty blond appearance to seduce men into sex. I used my telepathy to make them think I was older. When I told them I was only fifteen or sixteen, they were mortified because that meant I could accuse them of statutory rape. Rather than risk their reputation, they parted with their wealth. I made sure they parted with plenty as well._

 _I was certainly not a virgin when I started this, but I quickly discovered that seducing men offered a very special kind of thrill. Beyond the physical pleasures of sex, I felt empowered. By dominating these powerful men as some runaway teenager, I was consumed with an immense satisfaction. I wasn't as bad as my sister, but I'll bet anything that I got more enjoyment out of it than she ever did. It was the first sign that I was heading down a very dark path._

 _With that money I began rebuilding the opulent lifestyle of a Frost. At age sixteen I had money in the bank and a growing list of connections. Then a new opportunity came my way that would change my life forever. It started with Christian. He was flat broke and withering away from his decadence. He sought me out for money. I refused to give it to him. Then I found out that he didn't come alone. He called in some backup that consisted of a mix of junkies and unruly drug dealers. He must have told them I had money and was easy on the eyes._

 _I could have tried to reach out to my brother. Being locked up and forced to fend for myself left me with little love for my family. When I refused to help him, Christian and his friends attacked me. I hit back with telepathy. I wasn't subtle either. It was the most ruthless attack I had carried out to that point. I hit their minds with the equivalent of a psychic artillery shell. In less than five seconds, they were on the ground writhing in pain while bleeding out through their eyes, nose, and ears. Some of them died. Some just suffered brain damage. Christian managed to hold on just long enough to curse me. He could have reached out to me or at least show some remorse. He showed nothing. So I didn't feel anything when he died right in front of me._

 _I could have left them and continued living my life. However, I picked up on one last presence that had been guarding the door. When I went to him he was cowering in fear. He must have been one of the lower ranking dealers and when he heard the screams of his associates, he must have thought I was demonically possessed. I asked him if there was any reason why I should allow him to live. After some bumbling, he told me he could introduce me to someone with some very good connections. I read his mind to make sure he wasn't bullshitting me. Then I had him take me to this someone._

 _It was a short drive across lower Manhattan. It ended up being the longest drive of my life. I found out that this seemingly low-ranking dealer was actually one of many spies. He used to spy for some big corporate entities. Then he got on his bosses bad side and was demoted to monitoring drug trafficking. He figured that by bringing me to his boss, he would be redeemed. His boss was a powerful man to say the least and not in the classic criminal underworld. He was something much more devious. He went by only one name…the Black King._

Emma shut out the giggles of her girls and looked at her reflection in a nearby mirror. She was beautiful by every standard. She had a body that many women would have done anything for. Her blond hair, flawless skin, toned form, and voluptuous curves exemplified every feminine ideal. Attaining such beauty wasn't easy. Like everything that was worth having, it came at a price.

When Emma Frost looked at herself, her vanity gave way to disgust. Her outward appearance hid some very ugly secrets. It was a reminder of how far fell into a world of darkness. As Emma she was just a mutant with loose morals. As the White Queen, she was a monster in every respect.

 _When I first met him, I wasn't sure what to think. He was at this upscale and secretive venue known as the Hellfire Club. It was a strip club/brothel for the richest and wealthiest of clients. For me it was a gold mine. For the man running it, this was merely a playground._

 _His name was Sebastian Shaw, but I didn't find that out until much later. When I met him, he was just the Black King of a mysterious group known as the Inner Circle. The dealer led me into a room where he had just had his way with three beautiful women. When he saw me, he wasn't too impressed. Then when I told him what I could do he cracked a smile. Then the spy told him how I killed my brother and all his associates. That smile of his grew as the details got more graphic._

 _When he looked at me, I felt like I was in the presence of a titan. He carried himself in a way that went beyond a rich snob. He had the kind of strength that I always aspired to have. He was at the top of that proverbial food chain. So when he offered me an opportunity to join him, I took it. He then asked me a very important question._

" _How far are you willing to go?"_

" _As far as necessary," I told him._

 _I would come to regret that answer. At the time, I didn't care. I wanted more. Making a living through blackmail wasn't enough. I wanted to be a queen. So the Black King put me on that path._

 _The first thing he did was put me through some training. This is where I met the Black King's right-hand woman, Tessa. She was a cold and unfeeling woman, but she helped me a great deal. She had an IQ that would have made Cordelia jealous and used it to refine my telepathy. She gave me a series of treatments that maximized my potential. I'm not sure the science behind them, but they worked. One of them helped me manifest my secondary power of forming a diamond hard shell over my body. It was enthralling. She also brought in a man named Jason Wayneguard to teach me how to master these powers. By the time I was 17, I was in full control._

 _Once I passed this test, the Black King put me through another grueling ordeal. He sent me to a series of plastic surgeons and paid to have my body enhanced beyond its natural beauty. It wasn't enough for me to be a cute blond. I had to be a cut above regular beauty. So I had breast implants, a facelift, a nose job, a series of skin treatments, and an extensive array of advanced hair removal. By the time it was over, I wasn't just a new woman. I actually looked the part of a queen. Me being the greedy bitch I was, I loved it. I rewarded the Black King by sleeping with him. I now consider that act on par with bestiality. It disgusts me now, but at the time I was so enthralled I could have slept with Satan himself._

 _That vile act led me to my next great challenge. I would have to work in the Hellfire Club as a stripper, using my body and my powers to steal secrets from the rich and powerful. It seemed simple enough, but I had to go beyond what I did before. This is when I got introduced to the Black Queen, who was every bit as devious if not more so than the Black King._

 _Selene Gallio was a woman whose presence made even the strongest tremble. As an ambitious and foolish teenager, I was willing to overlook that devious aura of hers. The Black Queen's job was to teach me how to master the arts of sexuality. It wasn't enough to just sleep with powerful men. I had to bring them to a world of ecstasy so great that they would be completely vulnerable. Selene did this with many of Shaw's sex workers, but she took a special interest in me. I'd rather not recall the details of that training. Once it was over, I didn't just have a new appreciation for sex. I had a new fondness for the decadent pleasures of the world. I made sure I put them to good use._

 _I wish I could say I'm not proud of what I did, but I can't deny I took a lot of satisfaction in my job. That first night at the Hellfire Club didn't feel awkward or intimidating. I wasn't the only girl that the Black King took an interest in so I was determined to set myself apart. There were thirty girls working that night. I made sure I outdid them all. I seduced five politicians, eight CEOs, three star athletes, and two media moguls. I didn't sleep with all of them, but those that did find their way to my bed were rendered powerless under my spell. I loved it. I got such a thrill out of it. The information I brought the Black King went a long way._

 _It didn't just stop at that one night either. I worked a regular shift, stripping and seducing my way to prominence. When I wasn't stripping, I was learning from the Black King and his associates. I already took business classes growing up. Under the Black King and the Inner Circle, I took more advanced classes. I learned quickly as well. When the Black King gave me a few million dollars to manage, I more than quadrupled it in six months._

 _It turned into a self-reinforcing cycle of greed and decadence. I would indulge in sexual deviance at night while fueling my insatiable lust for money during the day. This went on for years. The whole time I knew the Black King was watching me and judging me. I could tell he was preparing me for something. I wasn't sure what it was, but I was convinced that I wanted to be a part of it._

 _However, I didn't count on one thing. That tiny slivery of humanity that I retained didn't fade. While I was dazed by this dark world, a part of it still disgusted me. It was easy to drown it in money and pleasure, but this feeling would not leave me. I didn't acknowledge it at the time. Then someone came along who did. His name was Charles Xavier. Almost as much as the Black King, this man would have a big impact on my life._

Emma turned away from the mirror, swallowing away the disgust she felt for her former life. She turned her attention to another picture she had mounted on the wall. It was a picture of the X-men. It was old, taken during the days when they still wore masks to conceal their identities. She wasn't in it, but seeing Charles Xavier and his X-men brought out a new range of feelings. She had been a monster as the White Queen. It took hard lesson in the human spirit to help her confront that monster.

 _I was 20 at the time Charles Xavier entered the Hellfire Club. At first I thought he was just another rich man. I later found out that he was investigating a human trafficking ring that exploited mutant women. I had no knowledge of the matter. I quickly went for him and invited him to a VIP room. I told him I was 'wheelchair accessible.' At first I think he was turned off by me, which in and of itself is quite a statement. Then he agreed to follow me. That's where I got a long overdue lesson in humanity._

 _Once we were behind closed doors, I tried to make a move. That's when he revealed that he was a telepath. It caught me off guard and I tried to overpower him. I quickly found out that he was the world's most powerful telepath. I might as well have been a monkey trying to match wits with a rocket scientist. Charles Xavier saw through my shields. He saw through my decadent façade. He did more than just talk to me. He used his powers to reach out to me on a deeper level._

 _At first I resisted. Then he took me on a quick trip to the astral plane. There we talked mind-to-mind. He showed me this small yet brilliant light. He told me that this light was a sense of innate goodness that I had been suppressing. I didn't believe him. I still believed that everyone was only as good as the world allowed them to be. Their thoughts always betrayed them. Then Charles Xavier let me into his mind. For a telepath, that's like giving your credit card information to Russian gangsters. When I probed his mind, I found something I didn't think existed. I found a genuine man of honor. It was…comforting. It felt right, more than anything I was doing at the moment that was for damn sure._

 _When it was over, I had my first taste of doubt. Charles Xavier urged me to get out of this life. I told him that was impossible. He argued that it was only as impossible as I allowed it to be. He offered to help me. He said he could get me away from the Black King, but I had become too lost in this world of darkness. I refused his assistance and he left, but he told me that I would see for myself that my humanity was not lost. He also told me that when I acknowledged that, he would be there to help._

 _The damage had been done. For the first time, I started having doubts. I started to wonder if this was really what I wanted. I had no doubt that I could succeed with the Black King and the Inner Circle. Now I was doubting whether I should._

 _Charles's words proved prophetic. For the next few weeks, it was business as usual. I kept working and studying, acting as though nothing was amiss. Then one night the Black King canceled my shift. He invited me and five other girls to the opulent Hellfire Manor, the central base of the Inner Circle. I was given a special outfit to wear. It was the outfit of an Inner Circle queen. The other girls wore one too. That's how I knew that this was another test of sorts. It turned out to be my hardest test yet._

 _The Black King stood me and the five girls in the middle of this ritual chamber. Behind him were all the members of the Inner Circle, including the Black Queen. It was here he revealed his true name, Sebastian Shaw. I recognized that name as belonging to Shaw Industries, a rather shadowy company that was ridiculously prosperous. He told me that only those truly worthy were allowed such knowledge. He and the rest of the Inner Circle were looking to crown a new queen. It was a role I once wanted so badly._

 _Shaw gave me special attention. He approached me first, saying how proud he was of me and how far I had come. I smiled and nodded as any good deviant. Then he asked me a simple question._

" _Say I told you that whoever I choose as my queen would decide the fate of those who weren't chosen. What would you have done to the girls standing next to you?"_

 _I looked over at the girls who in every sense were mere competition. I had worked with these girls. I wasn't all that close to them and they didn't care much for me either. So I answered in as callous a manner I could._

" _I couldn't bring myself to care."_

 _Sebastian Shaw smiled at me in a way that still makes my skin crawl to this day. He had been testing me and I just passed. He snapped his fingers and the next thing I know, Shaw's henchmen snuck up behind the four other girls and grabbed them. Then with Shaw still smiling, I watched as each girl was stripped naked, raped, and beaten to death before my very eyes. It wasn't just the guards either. Members of the Inner Circle joined in the fun as well. I swear Selene actually got aroused watching it. The girls screamed and cried, begging for mercy. It never came._

 _The whole time I'm hiding my disgust. I remember the words of Charles Xavier and how he showed me that tiny bit of light within my mind. For the first time, I was utterly repulsed by the world I so embraced. As I watched Sebastian Shaw himself snap the necks of each girl, I saw him and his associates for who they really were. I saw myself for what I was becoming. So when Shaw and Selene asked me if I was ready to become their queen, I gave them an answer nobody expected._

" _No…I'm nobody's queen!"_

 _I'm not sure who I shocked more with that answer, myself or Sebastian Shaw. He was outraged. He spent all this time and energy making me his decadent little queen. And I had the gall to just say no. It was a major hit to his ego. It was also the first time I actually tried doing the right thing for once. I felt like I had come back from the brink of Hell itself. However, I still had to get away._

 _I don't remember how I got out. It was all a blur. The devious White Queen in me was condemning me for my stupidity. That faint light inside me was urging me on. The Inner Circle weren't going to let my rejection stand. Shaw would make me his queen whether I wanted it or not. I fought through the Inner Circle's guards and Shaw's goons. They chased me out into the streets of lower Manhattan during evening rush hour. Running in that White Queen outfit sure wasn't easy, but I was determined. Shaw was just as intent on not letting me go. He must have sent every goon within a three mile radius after me. Eventually I was cornered in some alley, surrounded by men who were under order to rough me up and take me in at all cost._

 _I tried to fight back. They were well-armed though. They hit me with this paralyzing stun gun. I thought I was done for. Then I had a bit of luck come my way. Charles Xavier hadn't forgotten about me. Running around in Lower Manhattan for an hour using my telepathy and diamond form probably set Cerebro off like a pinball machine. He probably figured out I was in trouble and sent the X-men to save me. Specifically, he sent Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Thunderbird, and Wolfsbane. They literally swooped in and saved the day, beating up Shaw's goons and saving my life._

 _It still got messy. I was paralyzed while the X-men fought off Shaw's guards. One of them was so pissed he tried to shoot me again. He would have hit me too had Cyclops not shielded me with his body. He ended up taking a bullet for me in his torso. Wolfsbane pounced on him while Marvel Girl took the rest of the attackers out. It was the first time someone had sacrificed for me. These X-men didn't even know me and they were helping me. It sent a powerful message. Even though I passed out, they made an impression._

Still brimming with mixed emotions, Emma took the picture off the wall and held it closely. She grazed her hand over the image of Charles Xavier, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Hank McCoy and the other X-men in the picture. To the rest of the world they were either a hero or a menace. To her, the X-men were so much more. They demonstrated a spirit she didn't think existed. It was the X-men who helped her realize she had that spirit. The Inner Circle failed to completely destroy it.

 _When I woke up, a new life awaited me. Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy were there to greet me. I was in a weakened state and feeling pretty jaded. So when they talked to me about who they were, what they did, and why they did it I wasn't in a position to embrace it. I was more intent on distancing myself from the Inner Circle._

 _Never-the-less, I owed Charles Xavier everything. He gave me a chance to rebuild my soul. I decided to take it. I was sick of living in a world driven by greed and bloodlust. I was open to another way of doing things. I couldn't promise Xavier I would be an angel. I did promise him that I would contribute while I worked on rebuilding my soul_

 _It was quite a transition least. I was no hero. I didn't do very well in my initial training. I excelled in class, but only to a point. I was at a disadvantage. Sebastian Shaw was still out there. If he saw me running around in an X-men costume, he may come after me. So whatever my role was with the X-men, it had to be low key. Those first few weeks were pretty clumsy as I didn't know what I was going to do with myself at the Xavier Institute. I worked closely with Charles and he helped me figure out a role._

 _Since I wasn't up for putting on a mask, he put my business skills to use. He specialized my classes on finance and business while giving me access to a good portion of the institute's budget. I was to be the X-men's principle finance guru. It would be my job to make sure that there was always money coming in to pay for X-jets, costumes, and Danger Room repairs. This would free Charles Xavier's time up so he could focus on developing his fledgling team. I would also act as a backup telepath for Cerebro when Charles wasn't available. It was a different role. It still felt more rewarding than anything I had done to that point in my life._

 _This transition to the X-men was made a lot harder by my anti-social personality. I didn't make too many friends with the others. I was still an arrogant bitch. The Inner Circle and the Hellfire Club left some deep scars. They weren't going to heal overnight. If I was to become a decent human being again, it would have to be a process. While I alienated most of the team, there was one other man besides Charles Xavier who saw a good soul in me. That man's name is Scott Summers._

Emma's demeanor shifted as she traced her hand over Cyclops's image. In this picture, he was still a teenager. He was a bit slimmer than he was now, but carried himself with a maturity well beyond his years. It was a maturity many respected. It was part of why he was such a good leader. In many ways, Scott Summers embodied the X-men. He also embodied a spirit that captivated her in so many ways.

"Oh Scott…why did you have to leave such an indelible mark?"

 _Scott set himself apart from the beginning. I didn't forget that he took a bullet for me. So naturally, I was a bit nicer to him than I was the others. It also helped he was a very handsome man. He was younger than me, only 18 when I first met him. But having given myself to men over twice my age, I was ready for a more refreshing companion._

 _It started out innocent enough, which for me is still pretty devious. I offered to sleep with him as repayment for the bullet he took. Amazingly, he refused. It was the first time a man rejected my advances. That in and of itself let me know that Scott Summers was different. So I went the less familiar route. I actually got to know the man. It sounds simple, but to that point I had lived in such a superficial world. I didn't even know my own family on a deeper level. He pushed me to be different and it was good for me._

 _As much as I enjoyed his company, I didn't exactly fall for the man. I came from a lousy family and the Inner Circle so I had a very poor concept of love. I know he fell for me though. I don't know what it was. He was just so enthralled by my wit and charm. I'm sure he appreciated my body as well, but for once that was secondary. He really reached out to me and I wasn't sure how to handle it. So when we made the transition from friends to lovers, it was unorthodox to say the least._

 _I tried to be different with Scott. We hung out, went on dates, and what not. When it came to sex, I got a little greedy. The Inner Circle left some indelible marks on my sex drive. Scott was a virgin when I met him so he wasn't in a position to measure up. So I 'conditioned' him, if that's the right word. By 'conditioned' I meant I was a little domineering. I used my telepathy to carry his body through those initial jitters. I also 'tweaked' some parts of his brain to give him the necessary fortitude that one can only find in Viagra commercials. I didn't always ask permission for these acts. Scott never stopped me though. He wanted to satisfy me like a good boyfriend. He treated it like a mission and in time I would say he accomplished it in spades._

 _It was a relationship that grew in ways I never expected. The more time I spent with Scott both in and out of the bedroom, the more I fell for him. He was the complete antithesis of the men I had grown up around. He was honest, dependable, and strong. I remember one time he and the X-men went on a mission to save people from an erupting volcano. It lasted longer than expected. Scott and I were supposed to go on a date that night. So when the time came I was getting all dressed up. I was utterly annoyed by his tardiness. Then the X-jet arrived and Scott practically ran through the debrief. Then at the moment we were supposed to go out, he was standing in front of my bedroom door. His uniform was a mess, his skin was covered in ash, and he smelled terrible. I still laugh when I remember his words._

" _I promised I would be on time. Just had to make a pit stop through Hell."_

 _That more than cheered me up. I remember skipping the date and helping him shower. That night we made love and by that time, I didn't need to condition him anymore. He could satisfy me on his own. I knew he loved me, but that was the first time I really felt loved. It had a big impact on my life and that impact grew as time went on._

 _Months turned into years and being with Scott gradually tamed the harsh bitch within me. I became a more bearable part of the team. I started to actually make friends. When Bobby and Warren came on board, I made it a point not to completely turn them off. I even got closer to others like Rahne and Jean Grey. I was actually starting to feel like a decent human being. I studied harder, earned an official business degree, and managed a greater part of the institute's finances. Under my management, the Institute's coffers swelled and Xavier was able to purchase various upgrades. That included the War Room and the goodies that line Hank's lab._

 _I actually felt close to my friends and I felt genuine love for Scott Summers. I know it was bizarre, sleeping with a man and later falling in love with him. Maybe it was too bizarre. Maybe it was a sign that for all the progress I made, I could never truly escape the darkness that consumed me._

Emma's gaze shifted from Scott's image on the image of the girl next to him, Jean Grey. She was in her old Marvel Girl costume. She remembered how she used to tease Jean about her fashion sense with costumes. Her feelings towards Jean had always been mixed. She still saw her as a close friend if not a worthy rival. Whatever closeness they had was forever conflicted when she fell for the man who taught her to love again.

"You're officially the luckiest woman on the planet, Jean Grey. I bet you still make light of it," she said to the picture with a touch of bitterness.

 _My luck was bound to catch up with me sooner or later. Fate can't seem to resist making my life difficult. It had a worthy partner in Jean Grey. She and I didn't exactly get along at first. Even though we could relate to one another with having lousy parents and spending time in a mental hospital, we bickered more than we supported one another._

 _Ironically, it was Scott who pushed us into being friends. As crazy as it seems now, Scott really didn't have any romantic feelings for Jean. He was just her best friend and didn't want his girlfriend to complicate that. I begrudgingly obliged and did my best to get along with Jean. It ended up working out quite nicely. Jean and I actually grew close. I was the one that encouraged her to make a move on John Proudstar. I gave her all sorts of pointers when she was learning the joys of intimacy with a studly male companion. We could have been those BFFs, as some of my students would say. That all changed after a fateful mission to the Savage Land._

 _It came at a time when Scott and I were at a conflicted stage in our relationship. I was finally falling for him and he was starting to question how serious our relationship could be. He was also getting closer to Jean, but I never sensed anything romantic. Then they went on that trip to the Savage Land. It turned into quite an ordeal, but the short version is the rest of the X-men got captured while they survived for nearly two weeks in that Jurassic nightmare. I had no idea what was going on. I was stuck at the mansion worrying while I carried out Xavier's usual affairs._

 _When they finally returned, something was different. I remember seeing Scott and Jean walking out of the X-jet, holding hands and smiling. They looked as though they had crawled head first through the intestinal tract of an elephant. They smelled even worse. Yet they had this different aura about them. It was like they saw one another in a different light. I didn't understand it at the time, but it deeply concerned me. I now sensed emotions between them that I hadn't sensed before. These emotions were distressing because they directly conflicted with Scott's emotions for me. It began a downward spiral that would culminate in the worst of ways._

Emma held back another wave of emotions. Closing her eyes, she put the picture back on the wall. There were so many good memories of her life in the X-men. She experienced so many wonderful things that helped rebuild her into someone who wasn't a heartless bitch. That didn't make the complications hurt any less. Scott Summers and Jean Grey were only one of those complications. There would be many more that would further torment her.

 _It was the beginning of the end for me and Scott. To his credit, Scott did everything you could ask of a man. He tried not to let his growing feelings for Jean affect our relationship. He stayed with me, he reassured me, and he made love to me as he always did. Were I not a telepath I would never have known something was amiss. It led us to a number of fights that I'm sure are the stuff of legend throughout the institute. I was probably responsible for over 85 percent of those fights. I couldn't help it. I finally start falling for the man and he ends up falling for someone else. It wasn't his fault. It was mine for not having enough of a heart to love a man when he loved me._

 _Scott and I stumbled along for a year after the Savage Land incident. By then even Jean's relationship with John Proudstar began to suffer. It seemed like only a matter of time before their feelings for each other caught up with them. Then I got a phone call that I hoped to never get. It was from Sebastian Shaw._

 _I can't describe how thoroughly pissed I was when I heard his voice. I wanted to strangle the first person I saw. He told me that he found me long ago and had been keeping tabs on me. He knew he couldn't convince me to be his queen again, but I would still be his pawn. I was ready to reach through the phone and rip his heart out. Then he dropped an ominous little clue._

" _Do you plan on having children one day?" he asked me._

 _I wasn't sure what he meant by that. He hung up before I could tell him to fuck off. Then on a whim, I went and got myself a checkup. That's when I learned the truth. I was barren. I had no eggs in my ovaries. My gynecologist said it was like they were forcibly extracted. That told me exactly what Shaw did._

 _When I called him back, he told me about my daughters. He called them the Stepford Cuckoos. Where he got that name I'll never know, but he sent picture of them to my phone. He waited all this time because he wanted them to be in adolescence when he rubbed them in my face. He wanted them to look just like I did when I first came to the Inner Circle. He said they were the only successful 'specimens' from all the eggs he took. If I ever wanted my daughters to live, I would do exactly as he said._

 _I honestly didn't expect any maternal instincts to kick in. The old Emma Frost wouldn't have stood for it. But Charles Xavier and Scott Summers taught me the value of human life. That made it too difficult to say no to that monster. So I had to do exactly as he said._

Emma turned away from the picture and walked back towards the staircase. The commotion with the Cuckoos had ceased. She assumed they were getting dressed in the bathroom or something. She found herself leaning over the railing, her head held low in a state of self-loathing.

She had a long list of reasons to hate herself. From her family to the Inner Circle, she let all sorts of horrible influences control her. She spent years in the X-men trying to fight off those influences. In the end, Emma Frost wasn't strong enough. Of her many sins, her betraying the X-men was by far the worst.

 _It was the hardest choice I ever had to make. In order to save my daughters, I had to betray the X-men. I had to lie to them and say I couldn't stay anymore. I made Scott think that our failing relationship was to blame. I made up some elaborate story at how I needed to do more than just manage the institute's finances. Some of it was true, but completely cutting myself off from the X-men was very difficult. I still remember how hard I was on Scott when I broke up with him. I didn't want to. Even though I knew it was coming, I had to be the bitch so he could move on without me messing his life up._

 _A part of me still loves Scott Summers. A part of me always will. He's a genuine, decent man in a world that desperately needs them. Even if I had loved him from the beginning, I don't deserve a man like him. My heart is too hardened. I know that Jean Grey can love him in a way I can't. I sensed it in her mind when I last saw them. They truly love each other. I may never know that feeling. I still don't know if I deserve it. After my messy departure from the X-men, it may be a long time before I can earn it._

 _When I left the institute, I felt lower than I had ever felt before. Shaw didn't give me any additional instructions. I was just to cut ties with the X-men and stay in contact with him until the time was right. He sent updates about my Cuckoos as a means to keep me in line. It's disgusting how well it worked. I tried to drown my sorrows in less meaningful aspirations. I used some of Xavier's connections to find work on Wall Street. I got a job at an upstart hedge fund. Within a year I had taken over since the manager was too inept to handle numbers with more than seven digits. All that business savvy and greed actually worked to my advantage. That along a touch of telepathy and suddenly I was the pretty young blond who commanded absurd sums of money._

 _It wasn't a very noble profession. It wasn't as devious as blackmailing or sex work either. It was a job to fill the hours. As the years went by, I worked myself into contentment. I ran a tight ship at that hedge fund. I surprised a lot of people with my cunning. For a while my hedge fund was the fastest growing fund on Wall Street. I was acquiring wealth that matched and exceeded what my family once had. Yet I didn't take much comfort in it. I could go on spending sprees that lasted for days and that wouldn't make me feel better. I was still Shaw's little pawn._

 _When the time came to cash in his favor, he made sure I suffered. The bastard used the trust I had earned with the X-men to carry out his elaborate plot for the Phoenix Force. The whole time I was powerless to warn my friends. I had to stand by while Shaw and his cronies abducted the X-men. I had to stand by while the Inner Circle conducted that insane ritual on Jean Grey. Even if she was sleeping with my ex-boyfriend, she didn't deserve what they did to her. All the while I was helpless. I knew if I did anything, my Cuckoos would suffer._

 _Lucky for everybody, Shaw and the Inner Circle underestimated the X-men. They overpowered and outsmarted those megalomaniacal snobs. I can't recall a more satisfying sight than seeing Sebastian Shaw get clawed by Wolverine. That's what allowed me to break rank and help my friends. Although by the end, I don't think they saw me as a friend. I lied to them and let others use me. Those are hardly the qualities of an X-man._

 _I didn't find out how the Phoenix incident turned out until later. My betrayal almost led to the destruction of everything and I do mean EVERYTHING. After a stunt like that, I couldn't face the X-men. Not without performing an act of penance. I could no longer afford to just rebuild my soul. I had to go above and beyond. So I set out with a new ambition…one that would follow in the spirit of the X-men._

Emma rose up from her slouched position. Looking around, she saw the fruits of her labor thus far. She had taken the lessons of Charles Xavier essentially copied it, creating her own school with very similar aspirations. She was no longer a student or an X-man. She was playing the role of mentor like Charles had done. It was an act that required a faith in humanity that she once thumbed her nose at. There was no more fitting way to repent for past sins and embrace that sliver of light that she almost lost.

Now with a more confident poise, Emma collected herself from her latest round of self-loathing. She put on the demeanor of someone who commanded respect. Her spirit had been molded in the Inner Circle and the X-men. Through these conflicting influences, she struggled to find just the right balance.

 _I started first by rescuing my daughters. For this I enlisted James Proudstar, John's irresponsible older brother who needed to do some penance of his own. Then he helped me recruit Sunfire and Dr. Nemesis, two other mutants with a troubled history and a desire to sleep better at night. With the money I made from my hedge fund, I founded the Academy of Tomorrow. It wasn't just a new place for my Cuckoos. I opened my doors to all young mutants in need of a nurturing environment. Those old teaching aspirations I had as a little girl took on a new meaning. So too did the idea of motherhood._

 _The Cuckoos have been the benchmark as to how I've handled myself with these children. Introducing myself to my daughters was awkward to say the very least. They were already in the mindset of teenagers. I don't know how Shaw aged them into adolescence and filled in all the blanks of a childhood. I suspect he had someone like Mastermind help them, but I suppose I'm better off not knowing. The Cuckoos were confused. They had been prisoners and now they were free. I had to show them how to be free. That meant being both a teacher and a mother._

 _They provided a nice stepping stone for when I started welcoming in students. Since the X-men were fighting much bigger battles, I worked with Sunfire and Warpath to reach out to a new generation of mutants. As these confused and often scared young mutants came through my doors, I had the daunting task of keeping them from walking the same path I did. My approach is a bit different than Xavier's in that I teach my students to be strong and master their powers in the same way I did with mine. It's not always smooth, but my students have responded. I see them and my Cuckoos getting stronger by the day._

 _The students look up to me now. They don't just fear me. They respect me. My Cuckoos naturally see me a bit differently. They still call me Miss Frost. I would rather not go by the mother label when I'm still in my twenties. I had to pay special attention to them. I used my talents to help them. I helped repair their damaged minds. I gave them some sense of normalcy at least on the surface. I'm not sure if Shaw left some deeper scars that need healing. Even after being stabbed, he found ways to open new ones._

 _Most recently, he used my two remaining daughters, Sophie and Esme, to torment me. His bastard son had the audacity to use them so he could steal tech secrets from Genosha, no doubt as a means to impress his monster of a father. I used to do the same thing with my father and now I see how ugly it can get. It was only appropriate that Scott and Jean were there to help me. They fought by my side even after I betrayed their trust and their love. It's another demonstration of how they'll have more heart than I could ever hope for. Even with that heart, it wasn't enough to save my daughters._

 _Esme and Sophie died because of Shaw's madness and my inability to do the right thing sooner. Maybe if I had taken a chance beforehand, I could have saved them all. The best I did is get back on Scott and Jean's good side. That's hardly a consolation to my Cuckoos. Who knows how devastating this latest incident will be?_

While Emma tried to stand firm in wake of her failures, he heard a renewed commotion from the foyer. Celeste, Phoebe, and Mindee had emerged from the bathroom. They were wearing their new outfits. They were excited and giddy, walking proudly out in the open as Emma herself was known to do. When they saw her looking down from the staircase, they gazed up and smiled.

"What do you think, Miss Frost?" said Phoebe, doing a little pose.

"Are we up to your standards of being fabulous?" asked Mindee.

"Anything less would be unacceptable!" said Celeste.

Emma had to hide all her conflicting emotions in the face of her daughters. Looking at them and the way they stood so confidently before her, she couldn't help but smile. These girls had endured a horrible loss with their two sisters. They endured an equally horrible ordeal as Shaw's twisted science experiments. Yet these girls that embodied so much of her being could still smile. Like her, they had that shining light inside them. Unlike her, it would not be shrouded in darkness.

"You look more than fabulous, my girls. You're _astonishing_ ," she told him, "Now you have a responsibility to maintain that style. To maintain one's style is a mark of strength. You're going to be strong for me, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am!" they all said in unison.

Emma's smile grew as she felt warm feeling inside her. She watched as her Cuckoos high-fived each other. They were proving stronger than she had ever been when she was their age. For all their losses and the burden of being her offspring, the Stepford Cuckoos had spirit. It was the kind of spirit that even Sebastian Shaw couldn't taint.

 _My girls are in a better position than I ever was. The Academy of Tomorrow will give them an environment to thrive in. They were the first official students. They've since been joined by the likes of Julian Keller, Sam Guthrie, Roberto Da Costa, Tabitha Smith, Noriko Ashida, and Daniel Moonstar. They're part of a new generation of X-men, whom I've dubbed X-Factor. With them are dozens more aspiring young mutants who need a non-corruptive force to help them find their place. They follow the example that Charles Xavier set with the X-men. It may involve running around in masks and making good headlines for the papers, but it goes a long way towards the future of our kind._

 _My daughters and my students are my life now. Our recent success in subduing and recruiting Rockslide shows me that I'm doing the right thing. This school is my way of repenting for a lifetime of greed. I may still be a bitch, but I'm a bitch with a heart. That heart has been tested. My family tried to break it. The Inner Circle tried to break it. Sebastian Shaw tried to break it. They all failed. With help from the X-men, I'm my own queen._

* * *

 **Up next: Sage  
**


	4. Sage

**Supreme Reflections  
Volume 5**

* * *

 **Sage's Reflections (** **AN: Takes place shortly after issue 116** **)**

 _Life is an unsolvable equation. There are a near infinite number of calculations that go into the most basic of human functioning. Even the most advanced computers in existence have difficulty making sense of such data. People act so amazed when they see their cell phone run some advanced application, but on a fundamental level every computer functions in a fairly simple manner. They're all products of mathematics._

 _I've always found a comfort in numbers. No matter what you do, two plus two will always equal four. It's the anchor of reality. For most of my life, it was the anchor of my whole being. My life has been driven by cold, hard numbers. Until recently, it was the only thing I was passionate about. Sometimes I believe it would have been easier if I was born a computer. Having these human elements along with a computer-like mind is difficult. Although it does have a few perks that I've come to appreciate._

Sage was sitting at the desk of her elaborate computer array wearing only light bath robe. It was late at night. District X had only minimal activity at this hour. Even a community of mutants in the middle of New York City had to settle at some point. There was always potential for chaos and she was responsible for being on top of it. As the chief visionary of District X, the systems that kept this society going went through her.

Much of her time was spent behind a computer screen. Having a computer-like mind required her to have more than just a standard PC. She had an elaborate array of advanced computers that couldn't be found in any electronics store. Every piece of hardware and software was custom made, built to work with her unique data processing skills. It allowed her to run programs at a superhuman rate. Like a computer, her mind was always processing data. At times she could barely keep up with herself.

"Hnn…Sage?" came a voice from across the room.

Sage looked up from her elaborate array, reminded that she was not alone tonight. Hank McCoy was lying in her bed, wearing only a pair of briefs. She thought he had fallen asleep. After their heated lovemaking a few hours ago, she expected him to be out cold.

"Go back to sleep, Henry. I'm just checking up on a few things," she assured him.

"Mmm…very well," he said in a groggy tone, "Although this bed is cold without you."

"Coming from a man with fur, I'll take that as an urgent statement," retorted Sage.

"Does that mean you'll come back quicker?"

"I'll be right there, love. I promise. Just let me finish up."

Hank growled lightly in response. It was his animalistic way of saying yes. It was one of those proclivities that Sage had come to love about him. Hank was a man of such contrast, so brilliant yet so primal. He had the best of both worlds. It made him strong both physically and mentally. It was a kind of strength that Sage envied.

 _Hank McCoy has it figured out. Even if the equation of life is unsolvable, he's solved more of it than I ever will. He's a brilliant man, but he's able to balance that brilliance with a powerful sense of humility. He can be feral one moment and intellectual the next, never fully losing control of his faculties. I once tried to calculate the chances of me meeting someone like him. The sum had so many digits I got a headache. I then tried to calculate the chances of me falling in love with him. That number was incalculable, even for me._

 _At one point in my life I thought I wasn't equipped to love. That's not to say I was bitter or anything. I just didn't think I had that program loaded into my brain. Hank McCoy changed that. He's reached me on an intellectual and emotional level I never thought possible. It's not like I was incapable of emotion. I just had it turned off most of my life._

 _Only a handful of people know the details of my life. Hank is among the elite few. I live a life under two names. Most of the world knows me as Tessa. That's the name I chose for myself. That's the name I've gone by for most of my teenage and adult life. Sage is the name I was born with. It's actually not my only name. I was born Diana Sage Fox. It's a name you won't find in many databases or records. I've worked very hard to keep it that way. At an early age, I learned the value of anonymity._

 _I was born into a war torn world. My father was a diplomat and my mother was a computer programmer in what was once Yugoslavia. I arrived just in time to witness the waning years of the Soviet Union. I barely had a chance to meet my father. He was killed by a Serbian sniper when I was three. I don't remember much about him so I didn't have time to get attached. It sure turned my mother off. She always seemed detached, as if she had turned off her emotions. It was a trick I would later utilize in a more advanced fashion._

 _My whole childhood was a progression of chaos and conflict. I lived with my mother in a small one-room apartment. It was in the middle of an area wrought with ethnic wars, guerrilla attacks, and political strife. My mother used to work for the old Soviet government. When that went under she got a job working for the failing Yugoslavian government. It was like being a janitor on a sinking ship. She never felt at ease. She was always looking over her shoulder. I remember one time when I was five I dropped a dish onto the floor and it shattered. My mother reacted like it was a live grenade and rushed me into a nearby closet. It took a while for her to be convinced that it was nothing serious. It would set the tone for a very sheltered life._

 _While my mother was paranoid, she did find ways to keep me out of trouble. Since there weren't many toys to play with, she gave me old computer parts to fool around with. I didn't know what they were at the time. I would just take them apart, put them together, and plug them in to watch the blinking lights. It wasn't the most entertaining activity in the world, but it did begin my fascination with computers. It was a fascination that would become a big part of my life._

 _I never made my mother's life difficult. I let her be paranoid while I learned as much as I could about computers. By the time I was seven, I created my first integrated circuit. By the time I was nine I was writing my first programming codes. By the time I was twelve I made my first full working computer. In many ways my computer was my best friend. It was so ordered and predictable, based in the cold facts of math and physics. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that had consumed my surroundings._

 _I never developed much of a social life. I wasn't a complete recluse, but I did come off as strange to other kids my age. I spent so much time around computers that I acted like one at times. I was like a machine, disciplined and focused._

 _I remember one time when my mother took me out to the markets, we passed by a field with a bunch of kids playing soccer. My mother asked if I wanted to play. I told her I didn't. We kept walking. Then one of the kids kicked the ball so hard that it flew over the goal and hit me right in the head. My mother overreacted of course, but I shut it out. When two boys came over to get their ball, they apologized. I told them it was no big deal and gave them their ball back. They were a little troubled by my demeanor because I had a rather noticeable bruise on my head. Boys being boys, they poked at me and asked if it hurt. I told them it did. I wasn't wincing or anything so they didn't believe me. From there it got ugly._

 _They started teasing me, trying to make me express the pain I was feeling. It was definitely there, but I didn't allow it to process. Soon those boys were cursing me out, calling me a freak because I couldn't understand the concept of pain. My mother had to forcibly restrain those boys to get them to stop. The whole time I didn't show a lick of emotion. It didn't just disturb those boys. It worried my mother as well._

 _Perhaps I should have been concerned. It seemed like an anomaly, a girl walking around with the demeanor of a machine. It was the first sign to me and my mother that I was not normal. It didn't bother me because I was still young. I hadn't learned to process the finer details of human social norms. That would be a challenge for most of my life. It was that failure to process my own humanity that led me down a very dark path._

Sage stopped typing on her computer array for a moment. On one of her screens, she tapped into a live video feed of the south end of District X. This was where most of the residence areas were. At this hour there wasn't much activity, but there were a few figures still out and about. Among them was a young teenage mutant girl with yellow skin and purple hair. She couldn't have been older than 14. Next to her was her mother, who was also a mutant. She had yellow skin as well, but with a more scale-like complexion. They were carrying a heavy load of groceries into one of the apartment buildings. They were smiling and laughing together as one might expect for a mother/daughter relationship.

Sage watched the scene play out before her. She remained fixated on the live video feed until they disappeared into the apartment complex. It didn't remind her about her mother as much as it did about how she was growing up. Her mother was not a mutant nor was she a bad parent. She was as dedicated as any daughter could ask for. All the difficulties weren't her fault. It was Sage who put her mother in so many difficult positions. It was tragic in a sense because she didn't realize how hard her mother had it until much later.

 _The whole soccer incident prompted my mother to make a difficult decision. I was different and in our current surroundings, I was too vulnerable. The Balkans weren't going to stabilize anytime soon so she pooled her every last resource to send me to a private school in Germany. I don't know how she pulled it off or why she didn't do something sooner. I guess she felt so tied to the conflict in the area that she couldn't imagine leaving it. That conflict wasn't for me. I'm glad my mother came to that conclusion. It would be the final act of good parenting she would ever do._

 _On the day I was sent off on a train to Germany, I had no idea that it would be the last time I would see my mother. I actually don't know what happened to her. I've looked into it, but people disappear in that part of the world all the time. As far as I know, my mother is long dead. She sacrificed everything for me and for that I'll always be in her debt. She was a good mother and she made sure that the conflict I left behind didn't follow me. That included giving me a new name to go by in Germany. That name was Tessa, which in many ways would define me more than Sage._

 _When I arrived in Germany, I was greeted with an old friend of my mother's who worked at this private school. I was only twelve at the time so she took care of me. Once classes started, I didn't need much taking care of. This private school wasn't fancy, but it wasn't sub-standard. It was a special school for gifted children who skipped grades. It was full of many socially awkward people such as myself so I felt right at home. Classes ran all year round so there was always work to do. I made a habit of keeping myself busy, soaking up every bit of knowledge my brain could process._

 _I actually started ahead of my grade level the first year. I skipped over another the next. My teachers would give me books to read, problems to solve, and projects to do and I would process them like a supercomputer. Some of my teachers called me a living computer. They may have been more right than they intended._

 _I believe it was around this time my mutant powers started manifesting. My mutation involves enhanced mental faculties that allow me to process information at superhuman levels. I can analyze and remember in a way that's not too different from a computer. In sifting through my memories I believe my mutation manifested gradually started at age 10. By the time I was 15 my mind was fully booted so-to-speak. I must have read every textbook from every department at that school. I had learned six languages, memorized every known collection of Greco-Roman literature, and mastered every known field of advanced science. I was the school's golden child. However, as gifted as I was there were problems. Sometimes even a powerful computer is vulnerable to a grave malfunction._

Sage turned her attention away from her computer screens and towards a nearby window. In it she saw her stoic reflection. There was no emotion on her face. She had turned them off as she so often did when she was working. It helped her be more efficient, but there were times it caused problems of a very personal nature.

' _I feel only what I allow myself to process. It's as convenient as it is a curse.'_

When she turned her emotions on, she watched her face tense. It was often a difficult process. Turning on emotions was like overloading an ill-equipped system with new data. This difficult process that so few understood was the heart of so many problems. Being able to turn her emotions on and off was a blessing at times. In some instances it put a strain on her sense of humanity.

 _It started when my telepathy manifested. It was in the middle of winter and there was two-and-a-half feet of snow on the ground. I was on my way to my next class. Along the way, I saw this girl walking her dog. She was about my age and I remember she was friends with someone at the school. I was just ten feet behind her. We were nearing an intersection when this car skidded uncontrollably. It veered right off the street and onto the sidewalk. It missed me and the girl, but it ran right over the dog. It was a pretty sickening scene. The wheel ran right over this small Scottish terrier and it let out this terrible cry. It was enough to cause quite a commotion._

 _The girl was hysterical. She cried out in a mix of anger and anguish, bursting into tears as she looked at her dog's mangled body. The driver of the car got out looking equally horrified. The girl was so devastated she fell to her knees. Me being so socially awkward, I didn't deviate from my usual emotionless demeanor. Then something happened to kick-start my latent limbic system._

 _I started picking up on these thoughts and feelings. They felt completely alien to me. I quickly surmised they weren't mine. The next thing I know my mind is completely overwhelmed. I sense the thoughts of the girl. I sense the thoughts of the driver. I sense the thoughts of everybody around me who was shocked at the scene. It was the first time I had been so overwhelmed. I started screaming and seething, every logical faculty of my mind shutting down as if my mental computer had been overheated._

 _While everyone was still focused on the dog, I ran full speed back to my dormitory. I completely forgot about class and locked myself in my room. For the next two hours I cried and groaned. I kept hearing all these stray thoughts. Processing them was next to impossible. I was on the verge of the mental equivalent of a system crash._

 _Eventually my teachers realized I had missed class and came looking for me. When they found me in such anguish, they rushed me to the clinic. I was then sedated and given a chance to rest. This helped my mind reboot in a sense. When I awoke my mind was in control. I still heard these thoughts and voices, but it wasn't so overwhelming. The school called in a doctor from a local hospital and he told me what had happened. While I was unconscious, they ran a blood test that answered my burning questions. I was more than just abnormally gifted. I was a mutant, a telepath to be precise._

 _This certainly changed things, but it wasn't too shocking. I was already different in a number of extreme ways. Being a mutant didn't seem that outlandish. Once I knew what I was, I could process it. I learned as much as I could about telepathy and mutation. I soon surmised that my mental faculties were a result of my mutation as well. It wasn't too long before I was in control of my psychic abilities. Most telepaths struggle for such control, but having a computerized brain helped. While being a mutant didn't affect how I saw myself, it did affect the people around me._

 _I noticed a significant shift in how my teachers looked at me. I wasn't gifted anymore. I was a freak. Those were their exact thoughts. My brilliance wasn't a result of a natural aptitude. I just had a mutation that made me smart. I didn't like that nor did I take kindly to it. This helped create a new problem._

 _Now that I was psychic, I was forced to confront the emotions I had long negated. I found it difficult, having to process these inherently illogical sentiments. That's why I trained myself to turn them off. It made everything much easier. However, even when they were off the mere knowledge of what other people thought of me changed my mentality. Suddenly, I wasn't content with just being smart. I had to grow a bit of an ego. This in a girl who isn't good at processing emotions is a ticking cosmic explosion._

Sage scolded her reflection in the window. She had to look away, less her emotions get the better of her. It was her greatest struggle. Sage could keep her emotions turned off all the time if she wanted. She had long since concluded that she shouldn't. It was vital she turn them on so she could feel the impact of her actions. The whole conflict over whether she _could_ do something versus whether she _should_ was a conflict that led to many struggles. It was in these conflicts that Sage had to contend with an unfortunate truth.

"I'm a fool," she said under her breath, "A damned fool."

 _Being labeled a freak didn't exactly inspire me in the classical sense. If anything, it pushed me to cross lines and go further. If I was going to be a freak then I was going to be the freak that outdid them. I was going to outdo all of humanity. I was going to use my brilliance to change the world._

 _For the next three years I entered a series of accelerated learning programs. I literally took every subject I could. I spent 20 hours a day in class or behind a computer screen, processing and absorbing information. I took tests from all the top schools including Oxford, Cambridge, Yale, MIT, and Princeton. I didn't just seek to pass the tests. I wanted to make a joke of them._

 _By the time I was 18 I was probably the most educated person in Europe. Along the way I formulated a plan on how to turn my brilliance into something tangible. I began focusing my efforts on biotechnology. I crunched the numbers and concluded that the impact of any technology was limited to a human being's ability to process it. I could create the greatest scientific marvel in the history of man, but it wouldn't mean anything if nobody could understand it. Biotechnology promised to change that. By improving the very biology of humans, they could process the world more efficiently like I did. My goal would be to develop a means of doing so that was centuries ahead of it's time._

 _I graduated with every possible honor from my school. I based my final dissertation on the future of biotechnology. In it I coined the term techno-organic material. I theorized that by blending nanotechnology, artificial intelligence, and neuro-biological interface that humanity wouldn't just be able to maximize their potential. They would be able to exceed it in a way that evolution could only envy. I laid out the math, the physics, and the feasibility of such substance. I received a high mark for the paper, but many in the scientific arena thought my proposal was impractical if not impossible. I took that as a challenge to prove them wrong._

 _Once I graduated I could have done pretty much anything. I started going by Sage again, no longer afraid of the dangerous world around me. Even with the stigma of mutants, there were still plenty of organizations willing to pay top dollar for my services. I could have had a six-figure salary without breaking a sweat. I wanted more than that. My ego was too bloated. I wanted a chance to turn my theories into reality. Nobody, not even national militaries with deep pockets, was willing to take a chance. Then I found out a man named Sebastian Shaw had read my dissertation._

 _While I was in Switzerland trying to get work with an advanced biotech company, he approached me. I immediately sensed something devious about him. Sebastian Shaw is a man that carries a sinister aura wherever he goes. I was still young, only 19-years-old and too ambitious for my own good. Even with my brilliance, I fell for his charm. He said he was intrigued by my theories. He wanted me to join his company, Shaw Industries, and develop it._

 _I didn't ask him what he wanted to do with my techno-organic material. I didn't even ask him if I would maintain full control over my work. He was the first man with vast wealth who believed in my work. That was all that mattered to me at the time. I only probed his mind deep enough to figure out he wasn't leading me on. I agreed to work for him._

 _However, Sebastian Shaw is anything but charitable. He made it clear that if I was to have access to his resources, there were certain conditions I needed to fulfill. At the time I was willing to do anything to turn my research from theory to reality. I have a genius level IQ, yet I was unable to surmise how much those conditions would haunt me._

Sage had to turn her emotions off again. She was getting too worked up. Looking back towards her computer array, she watched the vast streams of data fly by. It was remarkable how easy it was for her to process this data. She could interface with computers the way most people rode a bicycle. It took a special mind to make sense of it all yet she still felt so foolish.

It was a conundrum that baffled her for years. How could someone so smart be so devious? She had no one to blame but herself. Her parents weren't at fault. Her mother did all the right things for her. It couldn't have been her youth. Even juveniles had enough sense to know when they were in a bad situation. There were times when every bit of logic indicated that she was doing something wrong. Yet she still went through with it. No amount of genius could overshadow that caliber of foolishness.

 _It was official. I was Sage, chief biotech researcher for Shaw Industries. Unofficially, I was also the top bioengineering chief for the Inner Circle. That was a very venerable position to be. It paid very handsomely. It paid far more than I thought was possible and came with plenty of benefits. It was the conditions that had the greatest impact._

 _I tolerated Shaw's conditions. Looking back on it, I don't know how I could stand to be in my own skin. Some of his requests were simple enough. I had to live on the premise of one of his buildings. This way he could keep an eye on me and everything that I used. I also had to sever any ties I had in Europe, which wasn't much of a stretch because my mother was long gone. Then there were the more disturbing conditions._

 _At the time I wasn't exactly eye-candy. Geniuses aren't known for being sexy. I was a lanky, thin, pale young woman that could walk down the street in underwear and not get harassed. Shaw insisted that change. He put me through a series of surgeries. I had a face-lift done to make my complexion more vibrant. I had breast implants more than doubled my bra size. I had my hips and thighs reshaped a bit for a more feminine frame. I also had several extensive skin treatments that made my skin smoother and softer to the touch. By the time it was complete, I felt like a porn star. It's how Shaw likes his women. Even the smart ones need to titillate his loins._

 _The man is a misogynistic bastard, but I brushed off any disgust for the sake of my work. While I was undergoing surgery, Shaw was setting up my own secret division within Shaw Industries. He made my work part of his off-the-books black budget program. This meant there would be no official documentation. I would be free of scrutiny and any ethical concerns. This in addition to the most advanced lab equipment dirty money could buy and it was a science buff's wet dream._

 _I don't remember thinking too much about the consequences. I just remember diving head first into my research. The next few years would be a trial-and-error period. I spent days on end conducting experiments, crunching numbers, and extrapolating data from various components of my techno-organic theories. Advancements came through bits and pieces. I essentially had to rewrite the physics books and adding a good chunk to the biology books in the process. I was doing something nobody had even dared to put on paper yet. I was my own Manhattan Project, except I was looking to unleash something far more destructive than an atomic bomb._

 _After the trial-and-error period, I spent a few more years going through the prototype period. This is a time when I actually synthesized the proto-material that would become true techno-organic matter. This is where Shaw's resources really came in handy. I was able to procure rare isotopes, radioactive elements, and meta-materials that aren't available in your standard chemistry kit. I started off by synthesizing a material that could interact with living cells. I then used nanotechnology to make the material programmable. I used a series of rare isotopes and chemical systems that made the material malleable. The whole time I honestly didn't feel as though I was doing something dangerously stupid._

 _My work sucked up a lot of resources from Shaw's budget. At times I pissed off other departments hungry for research money. At one point Shaw himself grew concerned. I gave him constant updates on my progress. He always pushed me to go further and I always responded. I took it as a challenge, thinking even less of the implications. Then one day I crossed a line that threw all aspects of logic into chaos._

 _Sebastian Shaw paid a visit to my lab. He was no longer content with reports. He wanted to see something tangible. Lucky for him, I had the latest prototype ready. I arranged a special experiment with this black lab rat. I remember it vividly. The rat was in a sealed glass container. The techno-organic material was so minute you could fit all of it into a thimble. I made sure Mr. Shaw had a front row seat. I explained to him that with the techno-organic material, I could impose new genetic material directly into the specimen. That included mutant DNA._

 _I kept my emotions off the entire time so I wouldn't be nervous. The whole experiment lasted no longer than fifteen minutes. I personally went through each meticulous step, programming the techno-organic matter and carefully injecting it into the rat. At first it didn't have much effect. Then like magic, it worked. The rat grew to twice it's size and it's fur changed from black to white. I know a trick like that doesn't impress many people. That's why I decided to throw some snippets from the X-gene into the mix. This caused the rat to sprout wings so it could fly. Within the glass box, it actually flew around to grab a piece of cheese hanging from a hook at the top of the container. It broke every law of biology. To say Shaw was impressed would have been an understatement._

 _In that very instant I became one of his prized gems if that's the right word. After the experiment he rewarded me with a special dinner. He had some of the most expensive food I've ever seen delivered and it was probably the best meal I ever ate. Whatever contentment I felt from that food was soon reversed because on that same night, Shaw seduced me. I should have been smart enough to reject him. I should have been utterly repulsed by the idea. Yet I was too entrenched in this research. So I did it. I gave myself to Sebastian Shaw._

 _It was a vile act. My skin crawls to this day every time I think about it. I'm ashamed to profess that Sebastian Shaw was the first man I slept with. He was not a very tender lover. He was dominating, forceful, and possessive. He treated me as if I was his golden goose with big breasts and nice legs. I remember feeling scratch marks on my back afterward. It was during this terrible act that my brilliant mind finally came to a realization._

 _This man was a heartless monster. He was cold, calculating, and completely without conscious. While he was ravaging me, I realized that I wouldn't be in this position if I wasn't like him to some extent. At that moment, I realized that my ambition had led me down a very dark path._

Sage closed her eyes and took deep breaths, struggling to keep her emotions turned off. She went back to typing on her computer array. In between monitoring the feeds from District X's security feeds, she found herself bringing up some old files. They were encrypted documents she gathered from her time at Shaw Industries. They covered some of the basics surrounding her techno-organic research. It was remarkable in a purely scientific sense, but was tainted by Shaw's dirty grasp.

From one of these encrypted documents, Sage brought up a few images of her earliest depictions of the completed techno-organic material. It was nothing fancy, consisting of rudimentary molecular charts that described the atomic makeup of the material. When Hank first saw this, he was amazed. He must have spent six hours analyzing it. While he found it fascinating, Sage saw the dirty imprints of Sebastian Shaw.

"I'll never escape it," she said to herself, "Even if I could, I most certainly shouldn't. I _need_ to feel this guilt."

 _There is only so much logic can do. There's no ethical molecule and there's no morality equation. It's all subjective. So when someone with a computer for a mind starts processing these feelings, it's bound to cause a crash of sorts. I remember waking up the day after I slept with Shaw. I felt so sick and dirty that I spent a full hour in the shower. It was by far the coldest shower I had ever taken. I remember vividly sitting on the floor, hugging my knees and crying. It was the first time I actually cried. It was also the first time I had to put a value on my research._

 _At this point my work was so close to a major breakthrough. I had the techno-organic material. What I didn't have was the AI to run it. I had laid out plans for EVA, the codename I gave to the program. Without the AI, the techno-organic material was just a fancy bit of goo. Shaw was expecting me have a test subject ready within a week. It would have been a huge breakthrough. The secrets of mutation and the ability to control them was within my grasp. There was so much good this technology could do. It could evolve man and mutant beyond their biological boundaries. Yet even with that promise, the price to get this breakthrough was too high._

 _I decided on the floor of that shower that I would not give Sebastian Shaw this technology. A man like him could use it to reek untold destruction. Logic broke down this time. It was logical to finish my research for the good of mankind and it was also logical to sabotage it so Shaw wouldn't get it. This is where I had to turn all my emotions so I could do what was right and not just what was logical._

 _To pull this off, I needed help. At the time, Emma Frost was as aspiring member of the Inner Circle. She too had been recruited by Shaw and she was beginning to see how sick he was as well. We had chatted a few times. I wouldn't call us friends, but we were able to relate to one another. We were both telepaths and we both were sacrificing our souls for selfish desires. So she was the only one I could turn to if I was to pull this off._

 _It was quite an elaborate affair. I couldn't make any suspicious moves because Shaw spied on everyone who worked for him. So I used telepathy to work out the details with Emma. Her role was minor. She just had to be in the area when the plan unfolded. It started with what was officially a routine experiment to prime the techno-organic material. Unofficially, I installed a few snippets of encrypted code. This code caused a dangerous level of chemical catalysts to become concentrated in a small area. No one who didn't have a PHD in chemistry could have known what this would do._

 _It happened very quickly. As I ran the program Emma Frost did her part. She altered the perceptions of the people who were working with me so they didn't know what I was up to. Then in 2.5832 seconds, the central container exploded. It wasn't just a spark either. Given the chemical concentrations I used, the blast was big enough to utterly vaporize the center of the room._

 _While this was happening, I slipped out through a utility panel that led into the ventilation system. Emma kept everyone oblivious by making them think I had vaporized in the blast. Since it was so intense, it knocked out the cameras and sensors as well. After making it through the vents, I used my own telepathy to manipulate one of the utility workers to let me out and forget he saw me. I also made it so he let me borrow his clothes and use his car._

 _As far as I knew, it was a perfect escape. I laid low for a good two weeks before I was confident enough that Shaw had lost track of me. I lost my research and the chance to unlock the secrets of mutation, but I gained something much greater. I now had a much clearer sense of humility. I could no longer base all my actions on cold, hard logic. I needed to do what was right. If I was going to use my gifts wisely, I needed another approach._

 _I came way too close to giving Sebastian Shaw the keys to limitless power. I couldn't simply relegate myself to a faceless existence. It would have been too easy. I could have made a new identity, got a high paying job, and lived a life of comfortable obscurity. That would have done nothing to repent for what I had done. That's how District X became part of my life. Rather than use my gifts to help an entire world, I would start small and use it to help those most in need._

Sage continued to sift through the encrypted documents. In addition to details surrounding her research, there was another part to the file that was equally telling. It was a death certificate, one that Sebastian Shaw himself had filed with the city. On it was the name Diana Sage Fox. She had been the woman that died in that lab accident. In some ways a part of her did die in that explosion.

Sage represented a side of her that she hated. She represented the blind, amoral ambition that once drove her. It was a part of her that she could not escape with any level of genius. She had to close her eyes and look away from the document. Even as someone who valued truth, sometimes lies were needed to do what was right.

 _Now that Sage was officially dead, I went back to my old alias, Tessa. Being declared dead meant a lot of my official documentation and assets were to be seized. I made sure that's how the rest of the world perceived it. While the proverbial wheels were in motion, I quietly siphoned off my finances and erased records of my life as Tessa back in Europe. I got help from Emma again, who was able to corroborate with others in Shaw Industries to ensure Shaw thought I was dead._

 _It took a while to get everything in place. I turned Tessa from a nickname to a completely new identity. With this identity, I began my long journey towards penance. I didn't have to go very far to find a place where I could put my talents to good use. At the time District X was in it's early stages. It emerged in a part of New York that had been ravaged by a double dose of gang violence and economic collapse. The city was looking to flat out level the area and rebuild it. The mutants living there had other ideas._

 _There wasn't much organization around District X to say the least. In essence it was an area where mutant gangs clashed with both non-mutant gangs and the city. It was not a fair fight. Leading this hapless effort was Lucas Bishop, a man with a lengthy rap sheet and a tough demeanor. His mutant powers made him a problem to other gangs so he started rallying other mutants. It got pretty violent. It could have turned into an all out urban war had I not intervened._

 _When I approached Bishop, he was skeptical. I think the surgery Shaw gave me actually helped. I don't think he looked at my face for the first five minutes of our meeting. What I offered was more than just a plan. I offered legitimacy. I told him that I could use my powers and my computer skills to legitimately take control of the district's assets. The land, the buildings, and the streets would legally be ours. We would actually have the law on our side. Bishop wasn't a big fan of law enforcement so he didn't think it was possible. He still gave me a chance and I made good use of it._

 _Tapping all the assets I had gained from Shaw, I quietly purchased the land around District X. It was actually quite cheap. Many of the owners were eager to get these run-down, crime-ridden properties off their hands. The properties were then consolidated into a pseudo-corporation titled District X. Once all the paperwork went through, the city begrudgingly had to acknowledge it. We had to go to court a few times because the city really wanted to demolish those properties. They lost the case and we had our district._

 _Once the authorities got the gangs out, I sent out an open invitation to mutants everywhere over the internet. There were many mutant ghettoes all over the world, but none were as well organized as District X. The promise of a stable life was quite strong. Even Bishop was surprised when he saw the influx of mutants from all over the country. These were not thugs or gang-bangers. These were normal mutants. They didn't seek to use their powers to be superheroes or supervillains. They just wanted to live their lives._

 _As our community grew, we banded together and started rebuilding the district. Bishop was still a bit rough around the edges. He saw District X as gang turf and was a little rough at defending it. I had to coax him repeatedly to get him out of that mindset. I convinced him to become more of a guardian. If District X was going to succeed, it needed people to watch over it._

 _During the clean-up period, we organized an old office building into the heart of District X. This is where I could monitor and manage the area. I programmed a series of computers to make District X a secure, stable community. The mutants could come to us for information on starting a business, getting an education, and finding work. It was like the unofficial mayor's office of the district. Around this time we also met up with Jamie Madrox, a mutant who had been living in various mutant communities for years. Later on we met Jubilee, who was another young fighter who was eager to carve out a home. We became the backbone of District X's order. It was an order that quietly prospered._

 _Seeing District X go from a run down urban wasteland to a thriving little community was more rewarding than any research I had ever done. Over the next few years, it became something special. Never before had a mutant community become so well-organized and prosperous. Even the city was impressed. It certainly didn't reject the taxes we paid. There were still problems. Every now and then some anti-mutant zealots would stir up trouble and we would have to confront them. I felt so much pride when I saw the mutants around District X defending their homes. Having had such a limited relationship with my own family, my brilliant mind was finally at peace with my heart._

 _I had found my place. I had a home I could be proud of and a life I wasn't ashamed of. As time went by I came to see myself as Tessa more than Sage. I wanted to distance myself from that old life as much as I could. However, I couldn't completely get away from my old habits. I was still a curious mind. I still researched mutants in my spare time, looking for breakthroughs that would help District X and mutants all over the world. This is what led me to cross paths with the man I currently share my bed with, Hank McCoy._

Sage turned away from her computer array and back towards the bed. By now Hank was fast asleep again. He was lying in a somewhat awkward position, snoring lightly with his animal-like grunts. It was somewhat comical, a man so brilliant looking so disheveled.

"Oh Hank…you're able to make a profound statement even when you're sleeping," she said with a slight chuckle.

Hank had found harmony with himself. He embodied the kind of balance that she used to struggle with. It was no stretch of logic to surmise why she fell so deeply in love with him.

 _I didn't expect to grow so close to Hank McCoy. While District X was coming together, the X-men were in their mask-wearing phase. They used their powers to fight crime and corruption in a world that hated and feared them. They did more good with their powers in a day than I did in a lifetime. So naturally, I was drawn to them._

 _When the X-men unmasked, I did some research about them. I found out who Scott Summers, Jean Grey, James Proudstar, Rahne Sinclair, and Bobby Drake were. I even found out who Angel was, even though he kept his identity closely guarded. It was Hank McCoy who really caught my attention. I remember coming across some of his college work. I was surprised with how consistently brilliant he was. I was even more surprised when I learned of the transformation he underwent. So after digesting his work and public accolades, I contacted him. I had no idea he would change my life so much._

 _I don't think he had any idea how much I would affect his life as well. At the time, he was dating Ororo Munroe. I had no desire to disrupt that relationship. I was merely curious. We started exchanging emails about our research. Those emails turned to web chats. Then they became phone calls. I had never really interacted with someone who could match my intellect. It was exhilarating in many ways. I actually looked forward to turning on my emotions around him. I only realized how strongly I felt towards him when I saw the strain I put on his relationship._

 _I still feel guilty about it. Even though Hank says he and Ororo were simply not meant to be, I can't help but think I made it worse. I made it apparent that there was an intellectual gap between him and Ororo. I kept widening that gap by giving him more reasons to talk to me than her._

 _Eventually, it led to Hank and Ororo breaking up. I felt terrible about it. I still sense that Ororo harbors a bit of a grudge to this day. For a while Hank didn't talk to me. He didn't talk to anybody. I continued reaching out to him. I had to meet him. When he finally agreed, it was a profound moment. I remember the look in his eyes and the emotions projecting from his mind. He was truly enchanted with me. When I first felt those powerful arms around me, I became enchanted with him as well._

 _They were so different from Sebastian Shaw's. For once I let my emotions overshadow my critical faculties. It was a rush of cosmic proportions. I never really knew or understood love until Hank became part of my life. I've since learned that no matter how brilliant a mind may be, a heart is always needed to balance it out._

Sage allowed her emotions to come back on again. With no more energy for computer work, she put her systems on standby and rose up from her seat. She then made her way back towards her bed where she could join her lover. Along the way she let her bathrobe fall to the floor, leaving her fully nude as she slipped under the bed sheets.

Hank was still fast asleep. That didn't stop Sage from cuddling close to his warmth. She loved the feeling of his blue fur on her naked skin. It was a feeling that defied logic. That no longer bothered her as it once did. The emotions she once kept turned off flowed freely. They provided the sorely needed balance between Sage and Tessa.

 _I've taken my relationship with Hank further than I thought possible. I took a big chance when I told him my birth name, Sage. At the moment he's the only one who calls me that. He does so in private. It's our own little secret that brings us a little bit closer._

 _It came close to tearing us apart recently. When I enlisted Hank's help to aid me in recovering my techno-organic research, I was letting him in on a part of myself that I don't share with many others. I kept secrets from him…painful secrets that caused undue strain. Telling him about my research, Sebastian Shaw, and the techno-organic material was the most strenuous obstacle our relationship faced to that point._

 _Yet we got through it. He helped me uncover the truth about Shaw. He and the X-men came to my rescue when Fantomex came so close to destroying us all. His willingness to endure such turmoil with me is all the logical proof I need to determine that this is the man for me. This is the man I love with all my heart. Together, our minds and our hearts are like two opposing ends of a magnet. We're drawn to one another by this powerful force that defies reason._

 _There's a chance that my research is still out there. Weapon X used it. There may be others that are using at this very moment. However, I do not dread this possibility. I know that with Hank by my side, we can overcome the past mistakes made by Sage. While Tessa may be the respected woman that helps run District X, Sage has a long ways to go. So long as Hank McCoy is here to give Sage and Tessa the love they so need, I can safely assume that the unbalanced equations within my soul will be solved._

* * *

 **Up next: Mystique**


	5. Mystique

**Supreme Reflections  
Volume 5: Mystique  
**

* * *

 **Mystique's Reflections (** **AN: Takes place shortly after issue 125** **)**

 _In a deceptive world, the deceivers have the greatest insight. No one can make it through life without some form of deception. Most people (sane people) are able to balance whatever deception they employ with some sense of personal identity. It's a luxury that everyone takes for granted. I didn't know I was denied that luxury until recently._

Raven Darkholm had literally employed countless faces. As a shape-shifter, it was a fundamental skill on par with walking. It took more than just good acting. She literally had to bear the skin of another human being and wield it as if it was her own. Having such skill allowed a shape-shifter to live any life desired. Everything from a movie star to a billionaire to a homeless man was an easy shape-shift. Because it was so easy, this skill took an unseen toll.

Raven lived a life shrouded in mystique, which made her codename very appropriate. She had been so many places and been so many different people that it was easy to lose track. It never used to bother her. She never even felt it cause her any distress. That was before she learned the truth. Through all her shape-shifting, she forgot the woman she was before she became a shape-shifter.

"Rose…my name is Rose," she said out loud as if trying to convince herself.

It still sounded like a foreign name. Having left the Xavier Institute after the Legacy Virus ordeal, she found herself standing in front of a mirror in a small motel just outside of New York City. She wasn't in her blue form. She was in the form of Rose, the women she recently learned she was born as. Standing completely naked in front of the mirror, she stared intently at the figure looking back at her. That figure wasn't a total stranger, but it still didn't feel like her. Since Sinister awakened her latent memories, she was struggling to digest this new reality.

 _I still can't bring myself to go by that name. It feels…strange. I know without a doubt that it's me. I am Rose. That's the name I was born with. That's the person I was before I became a shape-shifter. Ever since Sinister dropped this cozy little bomb on me, all the gritty details are coming back to me. Rose's life…my life…is becoming clear to me._

 _Rose…no, I was born in a rural area of Canada. I was the bastard child of poor logger who skipped town before my first birthday. I don't remember much about my mother. She was a beggar who worked low-paying jobs so we wouldn't starve. Since this was pre-feminism and pre-World War I such options were limited to say the least. To survive, she did what I would later master. She deceived._

 _My mother became a con-artist, dressing up in semi-fancy attire and pretending to be a rich widow looking for a new husband. I had to play the part of a spoiled little girl who wasn't that spoiled. It sounds like a ridiculous ploy that could never work, but my mother learned how to walk the walk and talk the talk. She did such a good job that she even got some factory owner to give her three hundred dollars to plan their wedding. Instead, she took the money, skipped town, and used it to plan her next con._

 _I was rarely a part of the scam, but as I got older I learned some of my mother's tactics. I started off playing the spoiled little girl. When I outgrew that role, I played the role of a bratty school girl. When I outgrew that, I played the role of a rambunctious young woman. My mom fooled her suitors while I fooled the children around me. It was almost like a game to me. My mother loved to reinforce the cardinal rules of cons: don't get caught and never act suspiciously. It didn't make for a very loving relationship, but it was the only life I really knew._

 _The more my mother did these cons, the more distant we grew. Having to play the role of someone else was stressful. In fact, it was so stressful she began drinking heavily like my deadbeat father. It got to a point where she would go through entire cons utterly soused. It didn't bother me as long as the money came in. I finally took issue with it when my mother tried to use me as a pawn in her little game._

 _It was part of this con that involved a sickly man and his delinquent son, Smitty. The man wanted Smitty to inherit his fortune, but wouldn't do so until he was engaged. I was only 14 at the time and Smitty was 20. Back then that wasn't such a big deal, but it disgusted me for other reasons._

 _Smitty was a degenerate. He drank and smoked every hour he wasn't sleeping. He had a nasty tendency to prey on young women. He was also mentally unstable, even by the standards of the time. I'm pretty sure he had syphilis. He could have had the Ebola virus for all my mother cared. Her health was failing too. Drinking so much bootlegged liquor will do that. I had gone along with my mother thus far, but this is where I drew the line._

 _I wish I could say it was difficult leaving my mother. I don't remember feeling conflicted about it. My mother and I didn't have a very loving relationship. It seemed like a prelude to the lousy relationship I would have with my own kids. I felt as though I was skilled enough to pull cons on my own. So I pulled a double-take._

 _Smitty wasn't going to let me go without a fight. So I put together my own little plan. I went into town with Smitty as his arm-candy, which wasn't unusual. He had a few drinks as always. He got into small bar fight and was kicked out. While he was cursing out the owners, I told him that a fresh train of imported whiskey was coming in at the station. If we hurried we could get to it while it's fresh. I normally didn't offer this kind of advice to Smitty, but he was too thirsty to question me and took me to the train station._

 _We stood near the end of the platform, watching as the train came in. Smitty was oblivious and so was everyone else around me. I was as deceptive as my mother taught me. I made sure I timed everything perfectly. Just as the train was pulling in, I 'conveniently' stumbled and tripped Smitty. He fell right onto the tracks, the clumsy drink he was. The train ran him over, crushing him like an insect. Everyone that saw it was horrified and came rushing over. In the commotion, I slipped away. By the end of the day, I was on another train heading into the United States._

 _Most fourteen-year-old runaways would have been in a pretty vulnerable position. I like to think I was better equipped. I had just killed a man. I had the instincts and drive to cross lines that others weren't willing to cross. When I got to America, I would learn that I had more skills than I thought._

The shape-shifter kept looking at her reflection, going back and forth between Rose and Raven. Whether she was blue-skinned or not, she had another life she couldn't escape. Rose and Raven weren't complete on their own. Raven was the life she knew. Rose was the path she took to that life. It was confusing, thinking of them as two different lives when they were really one in the same. Neither felt right, but neither felt wrong.

She settled back on Rose again. She reached forth and touched the mirror as if to reconnect with a life she once forgot.

 _My memory is still a bit fuzzy, but I recall discovering my shape-shifting abilities shortly after I arrived in America. They weren't nearly as advanced as they are now. I didn't have blue skin or yellow eyes. I was still a growing redhead that no one suspected of being a con-artist._

 _Somewhere along the line, I discovered that I could alter the shape and complexion of my face and skin. I have this vague memory of being in a costume shop on Broadway. I stumbled in there by accident. Out of curiosity I started trying on masks. The next thing I know my face is shifting along with the masks. I knew it wasn't normal. Me being an unsupervised teenager, I went with it._

 _Pretty soon I was mimicking other women my age. Then I mimicked older women. I then graduated to mimicking men, although at the time I couldn't be anatomically correct so-to-speak. I'm not sure at which point I was able to start altering my voice, but there was no going back. I had a gift and it was going to help me con my way to the top._

 _This was during the Prohibition years so I got involved with organized crime. I didn't have much of a choice. Work that paid more than nothing for a runaway teenage girl was hard to come by. I was right at home, deceiving cops and impersonating politicians in whatever way a well-paying gangster would instruct. I had already come from a harsh world, but the criminal underworld hardened me even more. By the time I was 18 I was both a deceiver and a killer. I wasn't ruthless or cruel about it. I did what I had to do in order to survive. That seems to be my justification in both lives._

 _This time in my life sewed the seeds of the killer instinct that would guide me through my life as Rose and Raven. I wasn't the kind of woman who would yield to anyone. I fought back against those who tried to control me. There were plenty of gangsters that wanted me for more than just my deception skills. I had my way with the weaker ones, but for those that got too ambitious I taught them a lesson in humility. That lesson was often painful if not fatal._

 _I'm not entirely sure how long my gangster period went on. I'm not even sure how many people I deceived, how many lives I ruined, or how much money I gained. It all gets very fuzzy in the years leading up to World War II. Since Prohibition had ended, I needed a new job. So in ways I'm not completely clear on, I got into mercenary gigs and spying. I'm not even sure who I spied for. I did some work in North Africa, France, Germany, and the Soviet Union. It paid well and I was able to further refine my skills._

 _Then the war broke out and everything changed. This is where my memory gets even fuzzier. I remember meeting this shadowy figure. He was strong and imposing, so much so that I actually feared him more than any gangster or spy. It may be that Sinister's little trick didn't bring back all my memories or perhaps this is one I'm suppressing. All I know is that this figure turned me from a criminal into a true fighter. He also introduced me to the world of Team X._

Staying in the form of Rose, the shape-shifter closed her eyes and thought back. There were so many new memories to sift through. Processing all the memories and feelings that went along with it was overwhelming. There were minor stretches of recollection, offering only minor insight into her life as Rose. Then there were other periods that were far more profound.

Among those memories were those involving Team X, the special operations team that employed talented mutants for jobs too extreme for even the most hardened of soldiers. It wasn't entirely clear how she got caught up in such an organization. It was only clear that this shadowy organization would be the greatest influence on her life.

 _This is where my memories become all too clear. Team X was where Rose and Raven Darkholm became one in the same. That strange figure that trained me did more than teach me how to fight. He prepared me for the horrors of war. Whatever he did, I was eager to prove my worth. I suppose arrogance is another quality that transcended both lifetimes. In this case I would need it. Team X was not for the faint of heart._

 _These people were ruthless. They wouldn't just fight the enemy. They would kill, torture, and maim anyone that got in their way. They sent a message to the enemy that these were the kinds of horrors they faced. I suppose even Nazis and Soviets needed something to fear from our side. I was expected to contribute by being Team X's top spy. Using my deceptive abilities, I was to gather intelligence from the deepest strongholds of the Axis powers. That intelligence would ensure that Team X was in position to do what they did and leave an indelible mark._

 _For a time they were skeptical of me. Not just because I was a woman but because I hadn't crossed the lines that they had. I was expected to do so at some point. I resisted it. I'm not sure why. Maybe Rose was a better person than Raven in the long run. She wouldn't dare take pleasure in the pain of others. Even as a career con-artist, she had an identity and a humanity that she would not compromise. This didn't go over well with anyone in Team X. However, one man took notice. His name was James Howlett and this man would change everything._

The shape shifter opened her eyes and looked at her reflection again. She stood back and hugged her shoulders, seething with frustration as a new wave of feelings came over her. She was so used to being cold and angry. Getting her memories back brought forth so many new emotions that couldn't be brushed aside. They were manifesting in small ways even before her encounter with Sinister. Now they were rushing back to her all at once. It was enough to confound even the most hardened of hearts.

 _It's as strange as it is pathetic. I allowed myself to go soft on a man who had a reputation for maiming civilians without so much as a flinch. They called James the Wolverine for a reason. He was vicious, more so than Victor Creed at the time. I get the sense that even he knows how bad a monster he had been._

 _During one of my first missions, I infiltrated a small town in Italy where Nazi spies were passing freely through safe-houses. They were relying vital intelligence on the North African front for the Axis. I went in undercover and got the locations of the neighborhoods where these networks were based. Team X came in and rather than weed out the spies, they torched every town. James led the charge, lining up the civilians and shooting them with Creed. There was this one woman who tried to attack him with a kitchen knife. He decapitated her and looked like an animal doing it._

 _When I first saw this I was disgusted. I know I had been hardened to this sort of thing, but I couldn't help it. For a time I kept my mouth shut. Then for reasons I'm still not sure of, I found myself drawn to James. He was the one who conducted my Team X training and it was during that time I gained insight into this man. He was a battle hardened killing machine. However, I didn't sense that he took the same satisfaction in it that others like Victor Creed had done. That resonated with me. So against Team X protocol, I reached out to him. I'm not sure if that was a mistake or a blessing._

 _We would talk for hours, sometimes getting into heated arguments. James would talk about the atrocities he committed and the people he killed. I would try to convince him that it bothered him more than he let on. He was so hardened by his work in Team X that he accepted that he had become a monster. I didn't believe him. I remember looking into his eyes and seeing a different person from the man who committed those atrocities. I've never been known for my empathy, but as Rose I had a knack for reading people. The more I read James Howlett, the more I was drawn to him. The more I reached him, the more he was drawn to me. It quickly escalated from there._

 _We continued to conduct missions. I would spy and Team X would do the fighting. Yet over time, I noticed James pulling back a bit. He wouldn't commit the same level of atrocity that he once did. He would actually show mercy, something that did not go over well with Victor Creed. It began the epic falling out those two would undergo. It also began a much deeper relationship between me and James._

 _We came to trust each other so implicitly that I don't think it's possible to quantify. I was showing him that he wasn't a monster. He was showing me that I was more than a deceiver. He saw through all my deceptions. He knew the real me. He and I would fight side-by-side, carrying each other through the horrors of war. The bonds formed on a battlefield are unlike those formed anywhere else. To hell with idealistic notions of true love. A love that's formed on the battlefield is one that defies classification._

 _It's not romantic and it's not the sort of thing Hollywood makes movies about. That doesn't make it any less profound. I remember after Team X was part of the Normandy invasion, James and I made love for the first time. That was a powerful moment. That was the first time I gave myself to someone without any deception. It was…different. I think that sealed our fate together. We committed a cardinal sin in the eyes of Team X. We fell in love. It's because of that love we ended up committing the ultimate act of betrayal…one that would haunts us for multiple lifetimes._

The emotions continued to burn. The shape-shifter actually felt tears forming in her eyes. She still wasn't used to tears. For much of her life as Raven, she never shed a drop. That showed how bitter and hardened she was. For years she never questioned that mentality. She blindly assumed that she was just a cold bitch by nature. As any shape-shifter would know, there are many different ways to influence someone.

When she opened her eyes, she was back in her blue form again. This was a form where that solid identity in Rose gave way to something more mysterious. Her blue form was the form in which Mystique would be both a name and a mindset. Now that she understood the influences on her life, this mystique didn't seem so mysterious anymore.

 _We couldn't stay in Team X. We couldn't love one another and remain a part of this horrific organization. So in the waning days of the war, James and I made a fateful decision. We were going to betray Team X._

 _It was an act fraught with danger. As devious as these people are, we still saw them as our brothers in war. They saw us the same way. The mere idea of betraying them disgusted us. James and I were left with an impossible choice. Either we stay and sacrifice our humanity or leave and live life on our own terms. In the end our humanity was more important than loyalty._

 _Together, we swallowed any disgust we may have had for ourselves and did what we had to do. I used my spy connections to tip the Germans off on the Team X headquarters. James bribed a few of the locals to carve us a way out. It all unfolded in the chaos of the Battle of the Bulge. For once, Team X was the one that was surprised. Since I conveniently forgot to tell them of the attack, they were caught off guard. The Germans showed as little mercy as we did on them. Pretty much everyone in Team X was wiped out. I wish Victor Creed was among them because he took James's betrayal to an extreme. His hatred for his old friend was going to span a lifetime now._

" _I KNOW IT WAS YOU, WOLVERINE! YOU AND YOUR BITCH! YOU'RE DEAD TO ME, YOU HEAR?! DEAD! I SWEAR I'LL MAKE SURE EVERY LAST BREATH IS YOUR OWN PERSONAL HELL!"_

 _I can still hear that man's sickening voice. At the time James and I shut everything out. We left our old lives behind in the ashes of Team X. That's when he started going by Logan and I used my old alias, Raven. He still called me Rose in private, but he insisted that I call him Logan. As far as he was concerned, James Howlett was a monster who died with Team X. If he was going to be the man for me, he was going to be someone better. I took that promise to heart and vowed to return the favor._

 _We made it out of Europe, sneaking away on a merchant ship. We arrived back in Canada where for once, we were going to live life on our own accord. There would be no more deception or missions. He was going to be Logan and I was going to be Rose. We moved into a small cabin in rural Canada. He got a job as a lumberjack and I got a job at a general store. I remember those days being the happiest of my life. I don't think I've experienced that sort of contentment ever since. I had the man I loved and a life that I didn't have to steal to enjoy. I should have known it wouldn't last. My past transgressions always have a way of coming back to haunt me._

The reflection of Raven Darkholm scolded her. Behind the bitterness and anger, the truth was clear. She was a fool. She was a fool for thinking she could make such horrendous decisions and get away with it. She was a fool for falling in love with a man who no one was equipped to love. She was a fool for thinking she could live a peaceful life. Even more frustrating, the alternative wasn't much better.

"You can't win," she told her reflection, "No matter what you do."

Had she not been such a fool, she would have been every bit the monster James Howlett almost became. If she stayed on the same path then that fragile identity that was so important to a shape shifter would have been obscured. So in that sense, was being a fool worth it? The answer wasn't as clear as it should have been.

 _That happy life I had with James ended on the night I died. It would be nice if that was a metaphor, but it's true. I really did die that night. Somehow enough elements from Team X survived to hunt us down. That wretched excuse for a beast, Victor Creed, led the charge. He was so consumed with hatred over Logan's betrayal that it didn't matter where we went. So long as he survived, he would find us._

 _Logan and I tried to escape. Our cabin was destroyed and we were surrounded by armed mercenaries. It all happened so fast, yet even in these newly recalled memories it seemed like a lifetime. We fought our way into the bitter cold, trying to escape in the dead of night. Then a rocket blast exploded near us. It blew me and Logan into a mound of snow. In the process, his claws popped open and impaled me._

 _I remember enduring a lot of pain in my life as Rose. None was worse than that moment. I know it was an accident. Logan did everything he could to protect me. Yet by a cruel twist of fate, I died in his arms. I clung to him…giving him what was left of my love. It was a dark, solemn feeling. There was no tunnel of light or gentle release. It was just a cold, dark end._

 _I should have died that night. Whether I was Rose or Raven, I should have passed on. As usual, forces beyond my control came back to haunt me. Dr. Nathanial Essex and a new project called Weapon X found my rotting corpse in the rubble. At least this is what Sinister told me. I don't know if there were more details. I may never know. This is where my memories get really fuzzy. There are literally years of gaps between my death as Rose and my new life as Mystique._

The shape shifter reverted back to her Rose form, but maintained her yellow eyes. It still felt strange. This innocuous form of a middle-aged redheaded woman felt as natural to her as her blue form. Usually when she changed into someone, it was like putting on a mask. Being Rose was the opposite. It was like taking off a mask she had been wearing for a lifetime. It should have been liberating, but it was also distressing.

Her blue form was the form she knew best. That was the form she lived as Raven Darkholm. It was a life full of bitterness and anger. Much of it was irrational because she had no memory of where she came from. If that wasn't agonizing enough, she wasn't even aware that she didn't know. She assumed that she had always been shape-shifting and deceiving. That was a side-effect of having to live someone else's life and not having the freedom to live one she could call her own.

 _As much as the man disgusts me, I owe Sinister my life. He didn't just bring me back from the dead. He enhanced my shape-shifting abilities. Now I could do more than just disguise myself. I could reshape my body to be both physically and anatomically accurate. It's so accurate that I can fool the most advanced biometrics. I can become a man complete with the 'equipment' necessary to prove it. I can become certain animals if I need to be more subtle. Having such a malleable form also adds to my durability. I'm practically immune from infectious disease (the Legacy Virus notwithstanding) and I can heal from injuries that would paralyze others._

 _This enhanced shape-shifting came at a price. When you're able to mimic someone so perfectly, you can live their lives with little regard. You look, sound, and smell like another person. That can be deeply disorienting. It can give the perspective that you don't have an identity of your own. Your only identity is the one you've stolen. I still suspect there were some side-effects to Sinister's little experiment. There had to be for me to completely forget about my life as Rose. Whatever the cause, I was so engrossed in deceiving the world that I deceived myself._

 _This is the period in my life where I became Mystique full time. My memories start to get clearer around the late 50s. I know that at the time I was trying to live a quieter life. I would find rich women who died in accidents, find some elaborate way to cover it up, and take their place. Then I lived that woman's life and no one was wiser. At least that was the case until someone found out about the original. No matter what I did there were always loose ends._

 _I mimicked rich wives, rich husbands, wealthy businessmen, and even some royalty. For over 15 years I lived the lives of others in the United States, Canada, and Europe. Along the way I got more frustrated because I couldn't make it last. I started killing some of my victims to take their place, which always got messy. I had to creatively steal the money I inherited from these people and consolidate it so it wouldn't be lost. The longer it went on the more frustrated I grew. Stealing other peoples' lives left little room for my own life and since I was a mutant, that life could never be lived openly._

 _This was also a time when mutants were starting to emerge as a larger issue. It got especially chaotic during the Civil Rights movement in the 60s. This is where I got a bit more ambitious. Somewhere along the line I decided that I wasn't going to hide forever and live the lives of others. I was going to fight for my own place in the world. That's where my old soldier training came back into the picture._

 _The odd thing is I wasn't entirely sure where that training came from. I assumed it to be survival instinct or something I picked up from an old con. Looking back on it, I can't digest how I could have been so stupid._

 _It happened in Europe. I was mimicking the wife of a prominent minister who happened to be corrupt in a very blatant sense. He was leaking secrets to the Soviet Union. I knew about it and rather than ignore it, I took advantage of it. I follow the contacts he made and offered my services as a shape-shifter and assassin. To prove myself I actually framed my pseudo-husband so he was promptly arrested for espionage and put to death. That made a compelling point. It also marked a new period in my life. I was a fighter now. That's the life I wanted to live._

The shape-shifter clenched her fists and looked away from her reflection. As Raven Darkholm, stealing lives from other people just wasn't enough. She couldn't put herself in a position to enjoy or embrace the world she snuck into. In the end it wasn't part of who she was. As Mystique, she was much more at home fighting endless battles. It was a way for her to vent her anger and bitterness. It should have been therapeutic. All it did was make hidden wounds fester even more.

 _Maybe it was the thrill or excitement that kept me going. Maybe I really wanted a cause to fight for. I didn't look at the big picture. I rarely do. I found a mission, completed it, and moved onto the next one. I had about as much foresight as a blind man stumbling through an alley of broken glass._

 _Even without that big picture, I was good at what I did. I started off with more espionage, doing private spy work for underground mercenary groups. I infiltrated places no one else dared to infiltrate. I gave British military secrets to the IRA. I extracted classified documents from the Soviet Union and gave it to Polish rebels. I even took the shape of a high ranking General in the United States and stole enough Pentagon papers to keep the North Vietnamese army three steps ahead for years._

 _It wasn't just spying either. I was an assassin as well. I got hired to take down foreign dignitaries, businessmen, and even other spies. As Rose I would have had reservations. As Mystique, I was as cold as arctic wind. I killed quickly and efficiently, often employing elaborate deceptions. I remember this one mission where I had to shift into this respected politician's pre-teen daughter, who was paralyzed from polio. I stayed in a wheelchair for two weeks until I got close to the politician. When I got him alone in private, I strangled him with my bear hands. I then took the body of the girl who died naturally weeks earlier and placed her in the chair. It was a mystery that was never solved and cemented my reputation in mercenary circles for decades to come._

 _I was good at what I did. As a mercenary I got more respect and satisfaction than I ever got mimicking rich people. I could use my blue form when meeting contacts and rather than being a freak, I was someone to be reckoned with. I won't say I was happy, but I was pretty content. Other mutants were struggling with their powers and I was utilizing them to prosper on my own terms._

 _With that prosperity came some complications. Living in the mercenary world meant constantly looking over your shoulder, never having a really stable life. There was always someone betraying someone else. There were revenge jobs, double agents, and bribes that could compromise my work. There was a stretch of time when I had someone trying to jump me at least twice a month. I was always able to fight them off, but it made the fruits of my labor difficult to enjoy. Even if I was a fighter, I was only making myself more bitter by living in a world of paranoia._

 _Sooner or later, my streak of foolishness was going to catch up to me. Fate just loves screwing me over…in some cases literally. The biggest wake-up call came when I crossed paths with a rival mercenary that I didn't know I had already met. His name was Victor Creed and what he did to me will leave scars from which I can never heal._

The shape-shifter tensed as she shifted back to her blue form. A new anger came over her. This was more than just the bitterness that had dominated her life. This was an anger that stemmed from being weak, vulnerable, and violated. It was the high price she paid for such a dangerous lifestyle. No matter how tough she was, the danger would always find her.

"Damn you, Creed…there isn't a place in Hell hot enough for you!" she seethed.

 _It happened in Eastern Europe. Opposing mercenary groups hired us to do the same job. We were to sabotage a Soviet oil refinery. It should have been an easy job for me. I mimicked the chief manager and got into the secure areas. While I was setting the explosives, Victor Creed found me._

" _Hey! I thought I just killed you!"_

 _Those were the first words he said to me. I was still mimicking the manager. When I reverted to my blue form, something came over him. He erupted into an animal-like rage. I fought back as I always did, but Victor was no ordinary mercenary. He was Sabretooth, a mutant more resilient than me and a lot stronger as well. I shot him eight times and that barely slowed him down. We brawled for a good five minutes until he knocked me against a boiler. I hit my head so hard I was almost knocked out. I couldn't fight anymore so I was at Creed's mercy. He made sure to take full advantage of the situation._

 _It gets fuzzy after that, but it played out like my worst nightmare. Rather than just leave me for dead, Creed took it a step further. He raped me. He stripped me bear, laid me on the cold floor, and raped me for a good half-hour. It was like being in hell, so weak and violated. The whole time he was snarling and smiling. When I close my eyes I can still see his sadistic face. I wonder if part of him knew the truth. He said he didn't realize it at the time in our last encounter, but I'm certain his subconscious was clued in! He knew I was Rose. So just beating me wasn't enough. He had to desecrate me in ways that matched his hatred. It was by far the worst feeling I ever endured._

 _When he was finished, he set the charges and prepared to blow the refinery up with me inside it. He thought I was out cold. I was really just woozy. When I heard him leave I stammered out, bruised and battered. I barely got far enough from the explosion to escape injury. I had so many wounds that even I couldn't shift myself into a presentable form. I'm lucky I'm malleable enough to hide scars. However, all the shape shifting in the world couldn't have prepared me for the other mark Creed left in me._

At this point, the shape shifter couldn't hold back her disgust. She had to look away and run towards the bathroom. A wave of nausea overcame her. The mention of Victor Creed made her feel as sick as she was angry. She stammered over the sink, having to hold on in order to keep herself from keeling over. She was on the verge of throwing up her last meal. Looking up at the dirty mirror, she saw a woman who wasn't strong or deceptive. She saw a victim of fate. It didn't just taint her. It tainted her children as well.

"Graydon…I'm sorry it had to be this way," she mused.

 _That foul act of rape impregnated me with Victor's son. I didn't find out I was pregnant until I left for America. I sought some much needed recovery time. When I found out I contemplated terminating the pregnancy. I didn't want to have Victor's child. The thought disgusted me. I was equally disgusted at the idea of just getting rid of this baby. For some reason I felt like that would give Creed more satisfaction._

 _So I went forward with the pregnancy. I gave birth to a baby boy and put him up for adoption. I remember how holding that baby in my arms affected me. I realized that being a selfish fool was going to hurt more than just myself. So I organized an adoption plan. I gave the child to a wealthy family, making sure that the name Creed remained. The way I figured, if this child was raised in a decent environment then the world would have a Creed that wasn't a monster. I now know that logic was deeply flawed._

 _Even though I erased every record I could, that didn't stop the child from becoming a monster. That baby Creed became Graydon Creed, leader of the Friends of Humanity. He's so disgusted with mutants that it's a pathological sickness for him. I didn't find out he was that child because I cut myself off from him. I didn't dare visit him, less my troubles follow him. It turns out my troubles were unnecessary. He still became a monster. It still burns when I remember his disgust upon learning that I was his mother._

"Huuuuaaahhhhhhhhh!"

Sickening heaves filled the bathroom as the shape shifter hunched over the sink, spewing whatever bile her stomach could manage. She kept seething and grunted, bitter over her failure and enraged over what Sabretooth did to her. She would never be able to escape it. She failed her first son just as she failed to see the truth.

Looking up from the sink, her blue skinned image looked back at her with a pathetic glance. She looked so fragile and vulnerable. She was supposed to be a hardened fighter. That was the power of the truth. It could make even the most stubborn of souls stop and question their current path.

 _That horrific affair with Sabretooth was a wake-up call. I couldn't keep living this life. I needed to find a way out or at least a way I could protect myself. That's what led me to the Azazel, a mercenary organization that wasn't like other mercenary organizations._

 _I had heard of them before. The Azazel had a reputation for dealing in rather obscure missions. By obscure I mean they didn't have a political agenda or a war to fight. They used the criminal underworld to gain wealth for a more specific mission. It was a mission that those who were a part of it followed with religious devotion. That was in large part due to their charismatic leader. His official name was Adrian Christian Wagner. Privately, he was Azazel, a high ranking lord from another realm known as Limbo._

 _Now I was not put off by the whole supernatural ploy. I knew the supernatural existed. You see all sorts of bizarre things in the mercenary underworld. I crossed paths with the Azazel purely by chance. I was in France hunting down one of my old contacts who I knew had betrayed me. He also happened to be a target for the Azazel. They sent five of their best assassins after him. I beat them to it and when they found me, I fought them all. After being raped by Sabretooth, I was a lot more vicious in my attacks. I fought so well that I impressed them. They insisted I meet Azazel._

 _When I first saw the man, I wasn't impressed. Then when I saw his true form, I was deeply intrigued. He had red skin, a tail, and a demonic disposition. He also had the strong build of a powerful man. He radiated an aura of confidence and strength. Above all, he was no fool. A part of me found that very attractive._

 _We had dinner together. I told him about my situation and he told me a bit about his. He said if I worked for him he could help clean up the messes I left behind from my mercenary career. It seemed counterintuitive, joining a new mercenary organization to get away from the after-effects of it. I suppose I was too attracted to Azazel to realize the truth. That attraction got heated very quickly._

 _At around this same time I met up with a woman named Irene Adler, who was another mutant that the Azazel employed. She was a precog in that she could see the future in her dreams. She was someone who was also bitter about a world that could never surprise her when something went wrong. We quickly became friends. She was probably the only friend I could relate to. She also warned me about Azazel's advances. I listened for a grand total of three seconds. This was one future she didn't need to have a vision to see._

 _After doing only a few jobs for his organization, Azazel was enchanted with me. He found my tough, vicious, and somewhat bitter demeanor so appealing. It's strange because that's usually what turns off most men, but Azazel was a lot more than that. So when he flirted with me, I flirted back. We soon became lovers. It was a nice reprieve from the horrors I endured with Sabretooth. Azazel may have looked like a demon, but he was an angel in bed._

 _I needed that kind of satisfaction in my life. It was invigorating, full of all the lustful inclinations that I was too paranoid to indulge in. I don't deny that I felt something for that man. I actually wanted to love him as much as he seemed to love me. I could never bring myself to do so. I can't help but wonder if it was because part of me remembered the love I shared with Logan. That was a feeling that simply couldn't be matched, even if Azazel did his best. I also had my share of suspicions about him. I turned out to be right in a rather annoying way._

 _The truth came out when I discovered that I was pregnant again. We had been lovers for six months. Azazel conveniently sabotaged any birth control efforts I tried. When I found out about this I was pretty upset. Then when I heard his reasons for doing so I was even more upset. He explained that part of his mission was to father a child with a woman from this realm. It had to come from a worthy woman and I was the lucky girl._

 _Needless to say, any love I may have had for him went out the window. As a shape shifter, I didn't take kindly to being deceived. He made this elaborate speech about how he initially only felt lust for me. Then he somehow grew to love me. Apparently, men from Limbo think with the wrong head as often as men from this realm. His pleas didn't make me want to sleep with him again. However, they convinced me to help with this mission._

The shape shifter took deep breaths as she splashed water on her face, wiping away trails of bile in the process. After calming herself from such disgust, she looked at her reflection again. The pitiful woman who was a victim of Sabretooth's perversion gave way to a woman with renewed resolve. Her anger at the world didn't stop her from taking a chance as a mother. It was a risk that may or may not have been wise to take. As her experience with Graydon Creed indicated, she had lousy luck when it came to parenting.

 _So under his careful supervision, I gave birth to my second child. This time, I welcomed Kurt Wagner into the world with more hope. That hope was dashed by the harsh reality of the world he was born into. Azazel quickly took Kurt under his wing, treating him like a prince. He took to fatherhood in ways I've never seen a man match. Demon or not, Azazel was dedicated to making his son strong. That's where we parted ways._

 _As I watched my son grow, I watched the Azazel condition him for a chaotic life. He learned to fight at an age when most children can barely run. He learned to fence at an age when most boys were playing with toy trucks. I didn't like the idea of my son following the same path I had followed. I didn't want him to end up old, bitter, and hardened to the harsh realities of the world._

 _However, Azazel wouldn't have it. He wanted me to be a part of Kurt's life, but his destiny was literally written in his blood. Kurt had my mutant DNA and Azazel's demonic heritage. He was the key to a mission that would protect both their realms. If I tried to take him away, I put both our realms at risk. I didn't want to believe him, but Irene kept telling me that Kurt needed to stay with his father._

 _This upset me in more ways than I could articulate. I started avoiding doing work for the Azazel. Aside from being part of Kurt's life, I didn't want to take part in Azazel's affairs. If he wouldn't let me raise my son, then I would embrace motherhood in another way. That's how my adopted daughter, Marie Anna Darkholm, came into my life._

The shape shifter managed to settle her stomach and turn away from the sink. She ventured back out into her room, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She was only making it worse by scorning herself. She had dug herself quite a hole and she wasn't going to get out of it by digging any further. She tried to pull herself out of this bitter world. Having children changed her circumstances a great deal. That brought new challenges and new consequences.

 _I actually got involved with Rogue before I got pregnant with Kurt. During a mission against one of Azazel's most tenacious enemies, I came across this baby girl who couldn't have been older than a few months. She had been abducted by another group, taken, abducted again, and kept hostage. There wasn't much on this girl. I'm not even sure who her real parents were. Having given up my son for adoption, those damned maternal instincts took over._

 _Against the mission objectives, I took the child and brought her back to Azazel. When he saw her, he sensed something special within her. Irene saw it as well. She was positive for the X-gene and had potential that exceeded all measures. Azazel kept her in seclusion with Irene for a while. After I got pregnant with Kurt and learned of Azazel's little deception, I took a more active role in her life. As I saw it, if Azazel was going to do most of the parenting with my son then I was going to have my chance with this girl._

 _Azazel had his reservations. So did Irene. This little girl was important enough to warrant attention from many rival groups. There was something about her that attracted danger. I didn't care. I was bitter at Azazel for lying to me and I needed to get away. So I coaxed him into erasing much of the paper trail surrounding this girl. He even let me name her Marie Anna Darkholm. I legally adopted her as my daughter and then I moved out of Europe and into an isolated community in Mississippi._

 _It was during this time that I tried to collect myself. I was still upset at how I let Azazel deceive me and use my son for his mission. Raising Marie was a nice reprieve. I could do for her what I couldn't do for Graydon or Kurt. I admit I wasn't a well-equipped parent. I got so frustrated I wanted to shoot dirty diapers with a machine gun. I managed to do okay for myself, giving Marie a decent environment away from the chaos. She was a rowdy little girl. I suppose that should have been a red flag. At the time I was content to be your typical overprotective parent._

 _I refused to make the same mistake with Marie that I did with my other children. That meant teaching Marie to fight at a young age and warning her about the dangers of the outside world. I tried to keep her connected to it in some ways. I allowed her to send letters to Kurt so she would have some sense of family. That helped, but over time my overprotective style caused tension. She didn't like being controlled. That's where she got the nickname, Rogue. As she got older she came to resent the strict limits I placed on her. I tried getting Irene involved. She agreed to fly over and live with us. Even though Marie got along with her, it didn't make things any less tense._

"My judgment is as lousy as my parenting," she muttered to herself, "Why couldn't I have seen it coming?"

As good as Mystique was at deception, she was terrible when it came to foresight. Even having a friend who could see the future didn't help. She still couldn't see the signs until it was too late. In a ways she deceived herself almost as much as she deceived others. It didn't just cause her more frustration. It affected her kids as well.

 _While I was raising Marie, things were going downhill for the Azazel. As Marie got older I found myself having to do more missions for Azazel. His enemies were growing stronger. Black Tom, the Hand, and Selene Gallio all colluded to weaken his organization. I did my share of missions, but resisted getting fully involved. Maybe I shouldn't have been so selfish. Irene warned me there was trouble for the Azazel. I didn't do enough and that is a failure I'm still paying for in many ways._

 _I tried confronting Azazel, demanding that he reveal all his secrets about his mission and why so many were trying to stop him. He always assured me that it was for the preservation of his realm and ours. I believed him. Before he could tell me the truth Black Tom got to him. Azazel was defeated and banished back to Limbo. For Azazel, it was the end of his mission. Now I was caught in the chaos._

 _I went on the run for a while, having to quietly sneak through Europe while avoiding Azazel's enemies. Kurt was with me, but he would not run. Azazel taught him too damn well. He tried fighting back. That didn't work, but he got lucky. He met up with Amanda and Margali Sefton, who gave him sanctuary. I didn't trust them. Maybe it's just the overprotective mother in me, but something about those two didn't sit right. I tried to convince Kurt to come with me to Mississippi. He wouldn't have it. He wanted to stay with the Seftons. Him falling for that Amanda girl certainly played a part._

 _While Kurt was able to slip under the radar, I was still too paranoid settle down. I left Marie alone for a prolonged period because of this. I trusted Irene to look after her. That was a daunting task because Marie was entering her teenage years. That meant she grew even more rebellious. Keeping her isolated left her bitter like me. It was an act of parenting almost as poor as me having to give up Graydon as a baby. I thought I was protecting her. All I did was deny my daughter her mother when she needed her most._

 _I was sick of running. My children were never going to be safe. I was never going to escape this blood-soaked world of deception. I would have taken any chance to get away from it. That naturally left me vulnerable and this time Magneto was the one who exploited it. By now mutants were becoming a full blown conflict. Magneto wanted to be on the front lines of that conflict. He needed help to carry out his plans. I was desperate and he was offering something I needed._

It seemed as though she couldn't win. Whenever she got in over her head, she got desperate enough to trust the first madman who offered help. It's what led her to Team X. It's what led her to the Azazel. It was also what led her to Magneto and the Brotherhood of Mutants. She shouldn't have been terribly surprised at how that fiasco turned out. Yet she still found a way to make it painful for her and her family.

 _My children were mutants. I was a mutant. I had the worst of humanity coming after me for a lifetime of deceit. As far as I was concerned the human race rejected me. The only way out was to reject them as well. So I paid one last visit to Kurt and Marie. I told them I was working on something. I was going to find a way for us to be together and be safe. I promised them that I would deliver. It was a promise I knew I couldn't keep. Even Irene warned me about making such a promise. I underestimated how leaving my children behind would hurt them more than protect them._

 _I honestly thought that Magneto was doing us all a favor. I believed him just as I believed Azazel. That shows just how horrendous my judgment is. I went deep undercover for the man, pulling the same mercenary tricks to aid his cause. I spied on Genosha and the surrounding countries. I organized the theft of materials and assets. I even scoped out potential recruits. With the situation deteriorating for mutants, it seemed like Magneto was on the right track. Then the X-men entered the picture._

 _I've never been a fan of idealism. Professor Xavier and his X-men seemed like the antithesis of my struggle. I thought they were deluded. I assumed that fate would eventually catch up to them. I underestimated them along with Magneto._

 _It started off with Marie. When her powers manifested, I wasn't there. Irene has lost control of her in her rebellious teenage spirit. I never had a chance to reach out to her. It was the X-men who were there for her. So she ended up joining them. That was the first sign of trouble._

 _Then the time came for the uprising. I hoped that this would change the stakes. Rogue would see how dangerous it was to remain with the X-men. It didn't turn out that way. In the end we only grew more distant. She became entrenched in Xavier's message. I thought they were deceiving her. Maybe they still are. Whatever the case, she rejected me in favor of them. That hurt more than I care to admit._

 _It hurt even more when Kurt joined. I was okay with him living in isolation in Germany. Then Black Tom had to show up again. I tried to save him, but once again the X-men showed up and I found a way to lose my son's trust. When he saw Rogue and heard Xavier's message, he chose them over me. I suppose I can't blame him. I was so angry and without direction. I probably would have put him in even greater danger if he came along with me. That didn't make it hurt any less._

The shape shifter hugged her shoulders again as she gazed out a nearby window. It was pouring rain outside, which seemed very reflective of her mood. There was some thunder rumbling in the distance along with a few flashes of lighting. It was a good metaphor for the life she had lived. She fought and struggled, but had little to show for it.

"What more can I do?" she wondered.

It was inescapable. She failed her children. She failed herself. Every time she took a chance, she made things worse. Now she was in another vulnerable position. She had no choice but to take another chance. History had shown time and again that she would only make everything worse. If she did nothing, she would be further consumed by her bitterness. It seemed like there was no way she could win. However, there was one major difference this time. She had the truth to anchor her.

 _So here I am, stumbling around in the dark with no clue as to what I need to do now. I talked to Irene. She warned me about every decision I've made to this point. I listened to her when she said that someone needed to carry on Azazel's mission. That's why I investigated the Shadowkings and the Inner Circle. I'm not sure if that mission is still important. After the Legacy Virus, every priority has changed._

 _I know my kids still don't trust me. I've given them too many reasons to doubt me. Even if there is a chance for us to salvage a family relationship, we have a long ways to go. That says nothing about their respective personal issues. I know Kurt has relegated himself to caring for Amanda Sefton full time in Nova Roma. I also know that Rogue went on her own personal mission for a while. They're still tied to the X-men and so long as that doesn't change then our relationship will remain damaged at best._

 _I don't have much to work with. Right now, my biggest asset is the truth I paid such a high price to obtain. Sinister used me like he used everybody. I played a part in his scheme to unleash the Legacy Virus. That's another burden I have to bear. However, he still delivered on his promise. He revealed the truth about Raven Darkholm and Rose. He probably didn't expect me to survive long enough to make use of it. He probably didn't expect the X-men to screw him over. To their credit, I didn't expect it either. That leaves me with more impossible questions with impossible answers._

 _Who am I? Which life do I live now? I am Rose and I am Raven Darkholm. When I'm in both forms, it feels right. It's confusing to say the least, but having them both at my disposal makes me feel…complete. I know where I came from. I can finally put context into my life. All these new memories I have are like missing pieces to a puzzle I've been struggling to complete. I haven't begun putting it together yet. A part of me is reluctant to do so. When all is said and done, will I like what I see?_

The shape shifter turned away from the window and reverted back to her Rose form. She looked at her reflection in the mirror again. This time there was no scolding herself. Instead she approached the mirror and looked at her appearance more critically.

"I _am_ Rose. I _am_ Raven. Could it be that simple?" she wondered.

It was beginning to sink in. Her form as Rose was just as much a part of her as her blue skinned form. Her life as Rose was just as valid as her life as Raven. That carried with it new feelings and burdens. Mystique was a cold and bitter woman who fought endless battles. Rose was a survivor, fighting only the battles she needed to fight. She wasn't afraid to follow her heart. It was that same heart that presented another inescapable issue.

Those feelings she had for Logan as Rose were still there. They were stronger than either of them expected. It's what led to so many awkward moments. It made a disturbing amount of sense. If Victor Creed's hatred could span all these years, why couldn't the love they shared as Rose and James span that same stretch of time? It was unavoidable. Whatever decision she made, it was going to involve Logan. She had to make those decisions sooner or later. She refused to make the same mistakes that had tormented her as Rose and Raven.

 _I can't keep deceiving myself. I have to accept the truth. Perhaps that's been my problem. Being a shape shifter has kept me in a world where I can't tell left from right. Not knowing who I am or where I came from gave me nothing to cling to. Now I have something._

 _I have my life as Rose. I have the love I felt with Logan during that life. When you forge a bond with someone in your darkest hour, it's difficult to unforge it. I don't doubt our paths will cross again. I'm a bit more doubtful that the love we shared can turn into something meaningful. Maybe I'm still too bitter to see the big picture._

 _Being a shape-shifter, I can't help but be guided by deception. I'll always have my mystique so to speak. However, I can't rely on living the lives of others. I must live my own life. I must hold onto my identity this time. It'll do a way with all the damned bitterness that has led me to make so many bad decisions. This time it really will be different. There is more at stake than the next mission. I have my children, my identity, and most importantly I have perspective. As Rose and Raven, I have the truth. It's up to me to use it now._

* * *

 **End of Supreme Reflections Volume 5**


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